A  SOLDIER'S 
TRIAL 

A    STORY  OF 

THE  CANTEEN  CRUSADE 


IRLF 


I 


GENER 


ARL 


A   SOLDIER'S  TRIAL 


A  SOLDIER'S 
TRIAL 

AN  1 

THe    Canteen    Crusade 

BY 

GENERAL  CHARLES  KING 

AUTHOR  OF  "A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SIOUX,"  *'  COMRADE* 
IN  ARMS,"  "THE  MEDAL  OP  HONC^ 


"  IT  ( 

KEEPERS  OF  VI!  IV1TY 

OF  GOOD  AND  V. 

WHO  HAVE  SUC 

IN  THE  ARMY." 


NEW  YORK 

THE    HOBART    COM 

05 


A  SOLDIER'S 
TRIAL 


AN  EPISODE  OF 

THe    Canteen    Crusade 
BY 

GENERAL  CHARLES  KING 

AUTHOR    OF     "A     DAUGHTER    OP     THE     SIOUX,"     "COMRADES 
IN   ARMS,"  "THE  MEDAL  OP  HONOR,"  ETC. 


BRIG. -GEN.  FREDERICK  D.  GRANT,  U.S.A.,  SAYS: 

"IT  fl  -NG   THAT   THE   PROSPERITY   OF   THE 

F  VILE  RESORTS  IS  DUE  TO  THE  ACTIVITY 
UK  GOOD  AND  WORTHY  THOUGH  MISGUIDED  CITIZENS, 
WHO  HAVE  SUCCEEDED  IN  ABOLISHING  THE  CANTEEN 
IN  THE  ARMY." 


NEW  YORK 
THE    HOBART    COMPANY 

1905 


COPYRIGHT,  1905, 

'I*  ,•**          <B?  '  •   -  • 
THfe  -flOBART  : 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    I. 
Two  ANNOUNCEMENTS 


CHAPTER   II. 
A  FACE  FROM  THE  PHILIPPINES 16 

CHAPTER   III. 
A    NIGHT    AT    NAPLES 31 

CHAPTER   IV. 
"  SHE  is  COMING  HERE  !  " 45 

CHAPTER  V. 
PREMONITORY    SYMPTOMS      . 64 

CHAPTER   VI. 
A  BRIDE— AND  A  BEAU 78 

CHAPTER   VII. 
THE  WOLF  IN  THE  SHEEPFOLD 88 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
ACCUSING    LETTERS 102 

CHAPTER    IX. 
AN  INVITATION — TO  Go    . .     .  118 

M22172 


vi  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER   X. 
A    GATHERING    STORM     ............  129 

CHAPTER   XI. 
DEEPER  IN  THE  TOILS      ............  136 

CHAPTER   XII. 
WHAT    THE    WOMEN    TOLD    THE    MAJOR    ......   147 

CHAPTER   XIII. 
WORST  DEED  OF  His  LIFE     ...........   167 

CHAPTER   XIV. 
REACTION       ................  176 

CHAPTER   XV. 
RETRIBUTION        ...........     ....  187 

CHAPTER   XVI. 
MY    LADY'S    MAID      .............  2°l 


CHAPTER   XVII. 
A  MOMENTOUS  DAY    .........     ....  208 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 
BLENKE  COVERS  His  TRACKS     ..........  2I9 

CHAPTER   XIX. 
AGAIN   THE   SALOON     .............  229 

CHAPTER   XX. 
A  MOTHER'S  DREAD    .......     ,.,...  242 


CONTENTS  vii 

CHAPTER   XXL 
LOVE'S  LAST  APPEAL 253 

CHAPTER   XXII. 
THE    LOST    FOUND 264 

CHAPTER   XXIII. 
A   WELCOME   PERIL 274 

CHAPTER   XXIV. 
CRISIS 285 

CHAPTER   XXV. 
BLACK  WOLF'S  BATTLE 296 

CHAPTER   XXVI. 
TRUTH  STRANGER  THAN  FICTION ,    .  311 

CHAPTER   XXVII. 
EXEUNT  OMNES .«    .  325 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 


CHAPTER   I:|.Y.  •    l:*XH'<  I 

TWO   ANNOUNCEMENTS 

THE  war  with  Spain  was  at  an  end,  and  so  were 
the  hopes  and  aspirations  of  many  a  warrior. 
For  several  reasons  Colonel  Ray  of  the  —  th 
Kentucky  was  a  disappointed  man.  One  of  the  best 
soldiers  doing  duty  with  the  volunteers,  he  had  had 
some  of  the  worst  luck.  Through  long  years  of  ser 
vice  in  the  regular  cavalry  he  had  borne  the  reputation 
of  being  a  most  energetic  and  valuable  officer.  He  had 
won  a  name  as  an  Indian  fighter  the  Indians  themselves 
respected.  He  had  campaigned  all  over  the  frontier 
before  the  railways  came  and  conquered.  He  knew  Ari 
zona  and  New  Mexico  even  better  than  his  native  State, 
and  was  known  from  the  upper  Missouri  to  the  lower 
Colorado  far  more  generally  than  in  the  "  blue  grass  " 
country  of  his  boy  days.  Apache  and  Arapahoe,  Co- 
manche  and  Cheyenne,  Sioux  and  Shoshone,  they  all  had 
met,  and  many  had  measured  spear  with,  the  dark-eyed, 
curly-headed  Kentucky  light-horseman.  He  bore  the 
scars  of  more  than  one  sharp  encounter  ;  had  given  more 


2  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

than  he  had  received,  yet  found  himself  in  no  wise  blessed 
with  profit  or  promotion.  The  Civil  War  was  fairly 
ended  when  he  stepped  from  the  Point  into  his  first  com 
mission.  Over  thirty  years  had  he  done  valiant  and 
faithful  duty  in  the  line,  yet  was  he  only  just  wearing  the 
gold  leaves  as  junior  major  of  his  regiment,  when  the 
long-expected  IjappCned  in  the  spring  of  '98,  and  the 
nation  called  out  its  first  levy  of  volunteers.  Slow  as  had 
been  his  advancement,  it  was  phenomenally  swift  as  com 
pared  with  that  of  classmates  who,  choosing  the  artillery 
arm,  had  languished  those  thirty  years  in  the  line  of  file 
closers.  Ray  had  no  complaint  to  make.  He  was  even 
rejoiceful  in  his  luck  when  called  to  Kentucky  to  com 
mand  one  of  her  regiments  of  volunteer  infantry.  He 
was,  indeed,  among  the  few  envied  men  in  the  army 
where  so  very  few  have  anything  to  excite  the  cupidity 
of  their  kind.  His  record  and  reputation  were  things  no 
man  could  undermine,  though  some  might  underestimate. 
His  temperament  was  sweet  and  sunny.  He  had  long 
been  happily,  most  happily,  married.  His  wife  was 
charming,  admired,  and  beloved.  His  children  were  all 
a  father's  heart  could  wish,.  Health  and  competence  had 
always  been  theirs.  They  had,  indeed,  for  years  known 
the  joys  of  moderate  wealth,  for  Mrs.  Ray  had  brought 
her  husband  something  besides  beauty  and  grace,  physi 
cal  and  spiritual.  The  Marion  Sanford  of  the  Centennial 
year  of  '76  was  reputed*  an  heiress,,  and  the  children  that 
had  come  in  course  of  time  to  bless  their  union  were 


TWO    ANNOUNCEMENTS  3 

certainly  born  to  the  purple.  But  army  people  of  those 
days  lived  long  years  in  the  far  West,  had  to  trust  their 
business  affairs  to  agents  in  the  far  East,  and  some  agents 
could  not  stand  such  prosperity.  Mrs.  Ray's  property 
was  mainly  in  real  estate,  some  of  which  became  gradu 
ally  unproductive.  Then  there  came  the  financial  storm 
of  '93,  and  a  subsequent  flitting  of  financial  agents,  some 
to  the  convenient  Canadas,  some  to  the  Spanish  Main. 

Then  another  thing  happened,  almost  whimsical  in  the 
way  of  retributive  justice  where  Mrs.  Ray's  relatives  were 
concerned.  That  the  resultant  burden  should  have  been 
saddled  on  her  cavalry  husband  was  perhaps  not  quite  so 
diverting.  There  were  several  of  Mrs.  Ray's  nearest  of 
kin  who  had  by  no  means  approved  of  her  marriage  in 
the  army,  and  to  a  nameless,  moneyless  subaltern  at  that. 
"  He  will  make  ducks  and  drakes  of  her  fortune,"  said 
they.  "  He  will  drink  and  gamble  it  away,"  said  certain 
others.  Ray  had  possibly  heard,  had  probably  expected 
this.  At  all  events  he  had  steadfastly  declined  to  use  his 
wife's  money.  He  had  gone  so  far  as  to  grieve  her  not 
a  little  by  very  gently,  but  very  firmly,  declining  to  under 
take  the  management  of  her  property.  That  was  all  left 
in  the  hands  of  her  people.  It  was  the  agent  of  their 
choice  who  made  ducks  and  drakes  of  much  of  it,  as 
well  as  of  their  own,  and,  at  the  time  the  Spanish  War 
broke  out,  from  his  pay  as  major  in  the  line  of  the  army 
"  Billy  "  Ray  was  contributing  to  the  support  of  certain 
of  the  children  of  his  former  detractors, 


4  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

Then  came  partial  relief.  "  Sandy  "  Ray,  their  eldest 
son,  commissioned  like  his  father  in  the  cavalry,  was  no 
longer  to  be  provided  for.  Indeed,  he  was  sending  every 
month  a  certain  quarter  of  his  salary  direct  to  his  mother 
to  repay  her  for  moneys  advanced  for  him  when  they 
were  much  needed.  Maidie  Ray,  their  lovely  dark-eyed 
daughter,  had  married  the  man  of  her  choice,  a  well-to-do 
young  New  Yorker  of  most  excellent  family.  There  was 
only  Billy,  Junior,  among  their  olive  branches  now  to  be 
provided  for  until  he  could  look  out  for  himself.  There 
was  even  prospect  of  his  being  sent  to  West  Point  within 
the  year  to  make  a  try  at  that  which  had  proved  too  hard 
a  problem  for  his  unmathematical  elder  brother,  for 
Sandy  had  worn  cadet  gray  long  enough  to  get  much  of 
the  practical  teaching  of  our  famous  school,  though  he 
could  not  assimilate  the  requisite  amount  of  the  theoret 
ical.  It  was  the  year  after  the  surrender  of  Santiago  and 
the  muster  out  of  most  of  the  State  volunteers  that,  in 
the  goodness  of  his  heart,  Colonel  Ray  turned  to  Marion, 
his  wife,  and  said : 

"  Why  not  have  Beth  and  'Cilia  come  to  us  ?  " — and 
thereby  hangs  very  much  of  this  tale. 

"  Beth,"  be  it  said  at  once,  did  not  come,  for,  even  in 
her  reduced  circumstances  and  somewhat  mature  years, 
this  excellent  woman  was  sought  by  an  old  admirer,  once 
deemed  ineligible.  Beth  wrote  thankfully  and  apprecia 
tively  to  Uncle  Will  and  dear  Aunt  Marion :  "  The  Doc 
tor  has  returned  to  New  Jersey  and — the  old  subject." 


TWO    ANNOUNCEMENTS  5 

There  was  now  no  stern  parent  to  say  him  nay,  and  she — 
could  not.  But  Priscilla  would  gladly  and  gratefully  come, 
and,  whether  or  no  Priscilla  was  grateful,  Priscilla  proved 
assuredly  glad,  for  Priscilla  was  a  woman  with  a  mission 
and  long  in  search  of  a  field.  Priscilla  had  often  mar 
veled  at  Aunt  Marion's  blindness  in  not  having  earlier 
looked  to  her  as  the  best  possible  guide,  example,  and 
companion  for  Aunt  Marion's  most  interesting  if  much- 
indulged  brood.  Priscilla  never  doubted  her  powers,  and 
never  dreamed  of  the  instant  protests  developed  when,  in 
mischievous  mood,  probably,  papa  had  suggested  having 
Cousin  'Cilia  come  to  the  frontier  to  help  mother  school 
the  little  Rays.  All  their  recollections  of  that  prematurely 
mature  young  kinswoman  were  somewhat  appalling. 
They  regarded  her  as  healthy  children  are  sure  to  look 
upon  an  elder  cousin  who  seeks  ever  to  improve  her 
opportunities  and  their  moral  nature.  Life  had  had  no 
greater  trial  to  the  trio  than  those  rare  and  even  regret 
table  visits  to  mother's  home  and  kindred  where  first  they 
learned  to  know  the  superior  gifts  and  graces  of  Cousin 
'Cil. 

It  has  been  said  that  Colonel  Ray,  the  Spanish  part  of 
the  war  ended,  was  a  disappointed  man,  and  that  so  was 
many  another.  Never  waiting  to  see  what  might  result 
from  the  general  rally  of  the  Filipino  insurgents,  follow 
ing  speedily  the  first  general  scatter,  the  government 
swiftly  mustered  out  all  the  State  volunteers  not  actually 
on  duty  in  the  distant  islands,  filled  up  the  regulars  with 


6  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

raw  recruits,  and  shipped  them  straightway,  undisci 
plined,  undrilled,  across  the  wide  Pacific.  Then  new  regi 
ments  of  volunteers  were  authorized, — National  volun 
teers,  instead  of  State, — and,  though  their  field  officers 
as  a  rule  were  chosen  from  the  regular  service,  there  were 
by  no  means  enough  to  go  around  among  the  many  de 
serving  applicants.  The  forty  odd  colonelcies  went,  in 
most  cases,  to  the  right  men,  but  there  were  many  "  left," 
and  Billy  Ray  was  one.  He  had  had  no  luck  whatever 
with  his  Kentucky  regiment.  He  had  been  sent  to 
Chickamauga,  and  thence  to  Florida,  and  thence  nowhere 
worth  mentioning.  They  saw  no  service  without  the 
States ;  heard  no  hostile  bullets  whistle ;  found,  like  most 
of  the  State  volunteers,  they  were  to  have  no  part  in  the 
Cuban  campaign,  and,  that  being  the  case,  they  wished 
to  go  home.  They  had  n't  enlisted  to  play  soldier,  said 
they,  and  much  as  they  admired  and  honored  Colonel 
Ray,  they  could  not  be  made  to  love  soldier  life  that 
had  no  fighting.  "  Give  us  a  chance  to  do  something/1 
was  their  cry,  "  and  we'll  stay  till  hell  freezes  over ;  but 
no  more  of  this  sort  of  thing  for  us."  Ray  had  tried  hard 
to  keep  alive  regimental  interest  and  enthusiasm,  but  few 
could  feel  either  interest  or  enthusiasm  in  a  daily  routine 
of  drill,  parade,  and  police  duty  in  a  hot,  malarious 
Southern  camp  under  Southern  summer  skies.  Other 
regiments  about  them  were  getting  orders  to  go  home  for 
muster  out,  and  some  of  these  individual  Kentuckians  had 
begun  to  go,  too.  If  Ray  could  have  moved  them  a  few 


TWO    ANNOUNCEMENTS  7 

miles  away  from  the  other  camps,  and  close  to  the  spar 
kling  sea  water,  things  might  have  gone  better,  but  his 
original  brigade  commander,  a  regular  whom  he  knew, 
and  who  knew  him,  had  gotten  orders  for  the  Philippines, 
and  gone. 

He  was  succeeded  by  a  brigadier  whom  Ray  had 
never  heard  of,  nor  apparently  had  anybody  else  out 
side  the  contracted  limits  of  his  commonwealth,  and 
this  gentleman,  having  never  before  served  with  troops, 
and  knowing  nothing  about  modern  military  conditions, 
had  imbibed  his  impressions  from  foreign  pictorial 
papers.  His  conception  of  the  functions  of  a  general 
officer  found  concrete  form  in  a  daily  circuit  of  his 
camps,  mounted  and  accompanied  by  his  full  staff  and 
escort.  When  not  so  occupied  he  sat  in  much  state  under 
the  fly  of  his  marquee,  and  had  his  colonels  come  and 
stand  attention  and  listen  to  his  homilies  on  the  military 
art,  which  differed  from  anything  they  had  previously 
conceived  upon  the  subject.  It  was  this  unschooled,  un 
skilled  brigadier  who  turned  down  Ray's  appeal  to  march 
his  regiment  five  miles  over  to  the  seashore.  The  colonel 
of  over  thirty  years'  practical  experience  was  being  lec 
tured  by  the  general  who  had  none.  The  unterrified 
Kentucky  rank  and  file  took  to  guying  their  civilian  star- 
bearer.  There  were  presently  demonstrations  that  Ray 
could  neither  foresee  nor  prevent.  The  general  thought 
he  could  and  should,  and  so  informed  him,  and  likewise 
the  division  commander.  Ray  demanded  investigation. 


8  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

The  division  commander  sought  to  smooth  matters  over, 
and  failed.  Ray  resigned  in  disgust,  sought  orders  to  his 
own  regiment,  and  found  himself  once  again  at  the  head 
of  his  squadron  of  regular  troopers  in  the  midst  of  scenes 
he  loved.  But  his  soul  longed  for  action.  He  was 
offered  a  lieutenant-colonelcy  of  one  of  the  national  regi 
ments  of  volunteers,  but  that  was  a  step  down,  not  up. 
It  would  have  placed  him  under  a  colonel  ten  years 
younger  than  himself,  and  he  said  he  preferred  the  gold 
leaves  in  the  regulars  to  the  silver  in  the  volunteers,  which 
ended  for  the  present  his  prospects.  Maidie's  wedding, 
too,  had  something  to  do  with  the  decision.  But  now 
that  was  over  with,  and  here  were  he  and  Marion  occupy 
ing  delightful  quarters  at  old  Fort  Minneconjou,  with 
every  prospect  of  soon  being  sent  to  the  Philippines, 
where  their  colonel  was  commanding  a  division  in  the 
field,  leaving  Major  Ray  to  look  after  the  post,  its  men, 
and  its  military  morals.  Here  it  was,  in  the  bracing  air 
of  the  Dakotas  and  within  range  of  the  bold  foothills  and 
remoter  pine-crested  heights  of  the  Sagamore,  that  they 
opened  their  hearts  and  doors  to  Mrs.  Billy's  niece,  Pris- 
cilla  Sanford,  and  affairs  at  Minneconjou,  stagnant 
a  while  after  the  departure  of  the  — d  Infantry,  once 
more  became  alive  with  interest,  for  Miss  'Cilia,  as  has 
been  said,  was  a  woman  with  a  mission  and,  as  perhaps 
should  be  said,  with  some  thirty  years  to  her  credit, 
rather  more  than  she  had  dollars. 

Time  had  been  when,  with  abundant  means  and  few 


TWO    ANNOUNCEMENTS  9 

cares,  Miss  Sanford  busied  herself  in  local  charities  and 
became  a  social  power  in  her  community.  But  with  loss 
of  money  came  lack  of  appreciation.  She  who  had  long 
managed  the  Mission  kindergarten,  and  mainly  financed 
it,  was  presently  superseded  as  president  of  the  board. 
She  who  had  ever  been  foremost  in  the  counsels  of  the 
Infants'  Home  and  the  St.  Mary's  Guild  found  herself 
gradually  slighted  in  the  matter  of  entertainments,  etc., 
though  still  graciously  permitted  to  do  most  of  the  cleri 
cal  work. 

For  nearly  a  dozen  years  she  had  served  as  secre 
tary  and  treasurer  of  the  Young  Woman's  Church  Aid 
and  Temperance  Union,  a  beneficent  organization  that 
still  held  many  meetings  but  few  converts.  It  had  the 
backing  of  three  or  four  wealthy  congregations,  how 
ever,  and  the  control  of  a  generous  fund.  When  the 
year  '94  was  ushered  in  and  the  victims  of  the  panic 
of  '93  were  enumerated,  the  case  of  Priscilla  Sanford 
had  excited  prompt  and  rather  widespread  interest;  but 
the  sympathy  that  might  have  been  as  readily  accorded 
was  tempered  by  the  reflection  that  Miss  Sanford  had 
ever  been  what  they  termed  "  bossy,"  by  which  it  was 
by  no  means  meant  to  imply  that  bovine  sluggishness 
and  submission  were  Miss  Sanford's  marked  characteris 
tics,  for  Miss  Sanford  was  energy  personified  in  petti 
coats.  It  had  been  moved,  seconded  and  carried,  in  a 
spasm  of  feminine  generosity,  that  the  secretary  and 
treasurer  should  be  paid  a  salary,  small,  to  be  sure,  but 


10  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

something,  and  Priscilla  Sanford,  who  had  labored  with 
out  fee  or  financial  reward  a  dozen  years,  was  permitted 
to  hold  the  position  as  a  salaried  official  just  one  year 
longer,  by  which  time  it  was  determined  that  Miss  San- 
ford  had  really  been  secretary  much  too  long,  and,  any 
how,  that  somebody  else  stood  much  more  in  need  of  it. 
So  Priscilla's  party  found  itself  outvoted  at  the  annual 
election,  and  the  Young  Woman's  Church  Aid  ceased, 
except  in  name,  to  be  a  temperance  union.  With  much 
that  was  intemperate  in  tone  and  language,  the  union 
burst  its  bonds  and  flew  to  pieces,  one  or  more  to  each 
congregation.  Then  Priscilla  tried  her  hand  at  writing 
for  the  various  journals  of  the  clerical  order.  Some  few 
published,  but  none  paid  for,  her  contributions.  Then 
Aunt  Marion  began  sending  occasional  drafts  that  were 
not  to  be  mentioned  to  anybody.  Then  came  Priscilla's 
bid  to  join  Uncle  Will  and  Aunt  Marion  at  Minneconjou, 
and  then — Priscilla  herself. 

She  had  been  there  barely  forty-eight  hours  when 
there  arrived  from  the  Philippines  a  bulky  letter  from 
Lieutenant  Sandy  Ray,  eldest  son  and  hope  and  heir, 
dated  "  Camp  Lawton,  Benguet."  It  had  been  nearly 
three  months  on  the  way.  It  brought  tidings  that  made 
his  mother's  soft  cheek  pale  with  anxiety  and  caused 
Colonel  Ray  to  look  up  startled  as  he  read  it,  to  go  over 
and  take  his  wife  in  his  arms,  lead  her  to  the  sofa,  and 
hold  her  close  as  he  went  on  with  the  final  pages — a  boy's 
rhapsody  over  a  boy's  first  love: 


TWO    ANNOUNCEMENTS  11 

MY  OWN  MUMMIE: — Not  until  I  could  send  you  the  inclosed, 
the  portrait,  and  by  no  means  flattering  one,  of  the  loveliest 
girl  that  ever  lived,  could  I  write  to  tell  you  of  my  almost 
delirious  happiness.  But  look  at  her — look  at  her,  and  see  for 
yourself  and  rejoice  with  me,  best,  blessedest,  dearest  of  mothers, 
that  this  exquisite  creature  loves  me — me,  your  no  'count,  ranch 
boy  Sandy — loves  me,  and  will  soon,  please  God,  be  my  own 
wife.  Mother,  mother,  I  have  hardly  slept  in  my  wild  joy,  and 
now  I  can  hardly  wait  for  your  approval  and  blessing.  Dad 
will  love  and  admire  her,  I  know,  but  mothers,  they  say,  never 
think  any  woman  good  enough  for  their  boys,  while  I — I  could 
kiss  the  very  ground  she  treads  so  lightly.  I  almost  worship 
the  very  glove  she  left  me  for  a  souvenir. 

As  yet  I  can't  quite  realize  my  wondrous  luck.  Why,  Mum- 
mie,  the  other  fellows  were  simply  mad  about  her  during  her 
brief  stay  at  Manila.  Quite  a  lot  of  us,  you  know,  were  ordered 
there  when  poor  Jack  Bender  was  court-martialed.  He  got  a 
stay  of  proceedings  of  some  kind,  so  while  the  witnesses  should 
have  been  back  with  General  Young  here,  they  were  dancing 
attendance  on  her,  and  the  way  I  got  the  inside  track  was,  when 
her  parents  had  to  go  over  to  Japan,  I  coaxed  a  ten  days'  leave 
out  of  the  General  and  went  with  them— her  father,  mother  and 
her  own  sweet  self — on  the  Hancock  to  Nagasaki,  and  came 
back  desolate  on  the— I  don't  know  what. 

I  met  her  at  a  dance  at  the  Club.  She  attracted  me  the  instant 
I  set  eyes  on  her,  so  like  is  she  to  Maidie,  only  darker,  perhaps, 
and  taller,  and  a  bit  more  slender.  But  her  eyes,  hair,  teeth, 
coloring,  are  all  so  like  Maidie's.  Her  features,  perhaps,  are  more 
regular.  Shannon,  of  the  Twenty-third,  was  doing  the  devoted, 
and  he  presented  me.  She  danced  like  a  sylph,  she  danced  right 
into  my  heart,  Mummie,  and  there  she  lives  and  reigns  and  has 
her  being — my  queen!  my  queen! 


12  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

Oh,  what  nonsense  this  must  sound  to  you!  All  my  wise 
resolutions  as  to  young  men  marrying  on  lieutenant's  pay  thrown 
to  the  wind!  That,  however,  need  not  worry  us.  The  major, 
her  father,  is  well-to-do,  and  she's  an  only  child;  but  this  is 
sordid.  It  is  she  that  I  love,  and  the  man  does  not  live  who 
could  see  and  know  her  and  not  worship.  Why,  even  our  old 
friend  Captain  Dwight  was  fascinated  and  did  n't  half  like  it  that 
I  should  have  gone  with  her  to  Nagasaki,  and  he  was  stiff  as 
a  ramrod  when  I  came  back.  But  to  return  to  her  father.  He, 
of  course,  doesn't  expect  to  remain  in  the  army  after  the  war. 
He  was  made  major  and  quartermaster,  I  presume  because  of 
his  financial  experience  and  worth,  and  he  was  so  patriotic  he 
felt  he  had  to  get  into  the  field  as  something.  He  is  a  Texan 
by  long  residence,  if  not  birth;  owns  two  or  three  ranches,  and 
his  wife,  my  darling's  mother,  is  a  Spanish  lady  whom  he  met 
years  ago  in  Cuba,  then  Sefiorita  de  la  Cruz  y  Mendoza  y 
Fronteras,  etc.,  etc.,  but  she,  my  lady,  never  speaks  of  this. 
She  is  simplicity  and  sweetness  itself.  She  bears  her  father's 
honored  name,  and  that  alone,  except  for  her  own  Christian 
name,  the  sweetest  ever — Inez. 

The  major's  health  has  suffered  much  in  Manila,  but  it  is 
hoped  that  six  weeks  in  Japan  may  restore  him  entirely.  If  not, 
they  will  take  the  homeward  voyage  by  way  of  Vancouver  in 
one  of  the  fine  ships  of  the  Empress  line  instead  of  our  crowded 
transports.  Hundreds  of  State  volunteers  are  going  back  by 
every  one  of  these  and,  being  discharged,  or  as  good  as  dis 
charged,  they  consider  themselves  relieved  from  all  discipline — 
which  makes  it  unpleasant  for  families  of  officers.  They  (the 
Farrells)  may  winter  in  'Frisco,  where  I  hope  to  join  them  in 
the  spring,  and  where  you  will  be  sure  to  see  them  when  you  and 
Dad  and  the  squadron  embark  for  the  Islands.  There  won't 
be  anything  left  of  the  insurrection,  or  much  of  the  insnrrectos, 
at  the  rate  things  are  going,  by  the  time  you  come,  but  mean- 


TWO    ANNOUNCEMENTS  13 

while,  like  the  loving  Mummie  you  are,  write  to  them,  especially 
to  her,  that  your  future  daughter  may  know  a  loving  welcome 
awaits  her.  She  seems  timid  as  to  that  and  fears  you  may  not 
like  her,  and  Dad  will,  of  course,  write  to  Major  Farrell,  who 
is  as  keen  a  lover  of  horses  as  ever  he  was,  and  who  owns  some 
of  the  finest  blooded  stock  ever  seen  in  the  South.  This  letter 
goes  registered  because  of  the  priceless  photograph,  which  was 
taken  at  Hong  Kong,  Inez  tells  me,  just  after  their  voyage 
over,  when  she  was  looking  like  a  fright.  Being  registered,  it 
must  go  slowly  and  may  be  long  in  reaching  you,  but  fancy 
your  Sandy's  joy,  if  you  can.  Send  this  to  Maidie,  if  you  will, 
for  I  have  no  time  to  write  to  both.  I  am  commanding  my 
troop  and  we  march  at  dawn  for  the  mountains,  and  may  be 
weeks  iiow  in  the  jungle,  chasing  Aguinaldo.  Several  of  our 
fellows  have  broken  down  and  had  to  go  to  the  sea  or  back 
to  Corregidor,  even  over  to  Japan,  to  recuperate,  but  I  feel  like 
a  fighting  cock  and  am  going  in  now  to  win  a  name  for  myself, 
and  for  her,  that  you'll  all  be  proud  of.  One  thing  I  can  tell 
you  proudly,  mother  dear;  never  since  that  day  at  the  Presidio, 
ever  so  much  more  than  a  year  ago,  have  I  let  even  a  sip  of 
wine  pass  my  lips,  the  first  and  only  teetotaler  among  the  Rays, 
and  perhaps  that  has  something  to  do  with  my  perfect  physical 
trim.  I  owe  you  this,  and  have  gladly  kept  the  faith.  Now 
in  my  new-found  happiness  I  feel  as  if  I  could  keep  that  and 
every  other  faith  to  the  end.  Lovingly,  devotedly,  your  boy, 

SANFORD  RAY. 

P.  S.— Inez  says  it  should  not  be  anrtounced  until  you  all  have 
approved,  whereas  I  wished  and  would  be  for  shouting  the 
news  from  the  housetops.  There  is  a  chance  of  getting  this  to 
you  quicker  than  I  thought.  Captain  Dwight  has  never  been 
himself  since  Bender's  trial  and  conviction.  General  Young 
wanted  him  to  take  sick  leave  last  month  and  go  to  Japan,  but 
he  wouldn't.  Now  he's  fairly  broken  down  and  has  to  be  left 


14.  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

behind,  so  this  will  go  to  Manila  with  him.  I  wonder — I  can't 
help  wondering — what  he'd  think  if  he  knew  what  was  in  it. 
The  fellows  do  say  she  could  have  had  him  and  his  money,  yet 
she  chose  your  boy,  SANDY. 

For  a  moment  after  reading  the  final  page  Colonel 
Ray  sat  in  silence.  Aloft  could  be  heard  the  firm  foot 
falls  of  Miss  Sanford  as  she  bustled  about  her  room 
unpacking  her  belated  trunks.  Within,  with  merry  snap 
and  sparkle,  the  fresh-heaped  wood  fire  blazed  in  the 
broad  open  fireplace.  Without,  the  orderly  trumpeter, 
away  over  by  the  flagstaff,  was  winding  the  last  note  of 
stable  call.  The  late  afternoon  sunshine  flooded  the 
valley  of  the  Minneconjou.  The  mountain  air,  cool, 
bracing,  redolent  of  pine  and  cedar,  stirred  the  tracery  of 
the  white  curtains  at  the  open  southward  window  and 
fluttered  the  silken  folds  of  the  standard  and  guidons  at 
the  parlor  archway.  Anxiously  the  mother  heart  was 
throbbing  by  his  side,  and  the  fond  eyes  sought  the 
soldier's  strong,  storm-beaten  face.  Then  she  noted  the 
look  of  bewilderment  in  his  gaze,  for  again  he  was  study 
ing  that  postscript.  Then  suddenly  he  stretched  forth 
his  hand,  took  from  the  little  pile  of  newspapers  on  a 
chair  a  copy  of  a  recent  army  journal,  swiftly  turned  over 
a  page  or  two,  searching  the  columns  with  half  doubtful 
eyes;  then,  finding  what  he  needed,  thumbed  the  para 
graph  and  held  it  where  she  could  easily  see.  "  Read 
that,"  said  Ray,  and  Marion  read  aloud: 


TWO    ANNOUNCEMENTS  15 

"SAN  FRANCISCO,  18—  Among  the  arrivals  at  the  Occi 
dental  by  the  Sheridan  from  Manila  and  Nagasaki  are  Major, 
Mrs.  and  Miss  Farrell  and  Captain  Oswald  M.  Dwight,  the 
latter  of  the  — th  Cavalry.  Major  Farrell,  Quartermaster  U. 
S.  Volunteers,  is  the  owner  of  valuable  properties  in  Texas, 
whither  he  is  soon  to  return.  Captain  Dwight,  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  of  our  squadron  leaders,  is  rapidly  recuperating 
from  serious  illness  contracted  in  the  Philippines.  The  voyage 
proved  a  blessing  in  more  ways  than  one,  for  the  dinner  given 
by  Major  and  Mrs.  Farrell  last  night,  to  a  select  coterie  at  the 
Bohemian  Club,  was  to  announce  the  engagement  of  their  lovely 
daughter,  Inez,  to  this  gallant  trooper,  who  won  his  spurs  in  the 
Apache  campaign  of  the  '8o's,  and  the  sympathy  of  hosts  of 
friends  on  the  Pacific  coast  in  the  death  of  his  devoted  wife  six 
years  ago.  They  will  now  rejoice  with  him  in  his  joy,  and 
unite  with  us  in  wishing  him  and  his  young  and  beautiful  bride 
all  possible  felicity." 

Mrs.  Ray  turned,  all  amaze,  incredulity  and  distress ; 
then,  with  something  like  a  sob,  buried  her  face  on  the 
sturdy  blue  shoulde-r.  There  was  suspicious  moisture 
about  her  husband's  blinking  eyes,  and  he  for  a  moment 
could  hardly  trust  himself  to  speak. 

"  Is  it — our  boy  now,  dear  ?  "  he  gently  asked,  and 
her  head  came  up  at  the  instant,  her  blue  eyes  welling 
over  with  indignant  tears: 

"  Oh,  Will,"  she  answered,  "  you  know  well  what 
I'm  thinking.  It  is  of  her — of  Margaret — it  is  of  their 
boy — poor  little  motherless  Jim !  " 


CHAPTER    II 

rA  FACE  FROM   THE   PHILIPPINES 

THE  man  did  not  live  who  could  say,  much  less 
think,  that  Oswald  Dwight  did  not  devotedly 
love  his  devoted  wife  and  had  not  deeply,  even 
desolately,  mourned  her  untimely  death.  Margaret  Wei- 
land  was  not  a  woman  to  be  soon  forgotten.  For  six 
years  she  had  been  the  object  almost  of  reverence  among 
the  officers  and  men  of  her  husband's  regiment,  almost 
of  worship  among  the  women.  Gentle,  generous,  and 
charitable,  gifted  with  many  a  physical  charm  and  almost 
every  spiritual  grace,  she  had  lived  her  brief  life  in 
the  army  an  uncrowned  queen,  and  died  a  martyr — 
almost  a  saint.  For  long  weeks  afterward  the  women 
would  weep  at  mere  mention  of  her  name.  The  casket 
that  bore  the  fragile,  lifeless  form  and  that  of  her  infant 
daughter  to  their  final  rest  was  literally  buried  in  flowers 
that  were  wet  with  tears.  Strong  men,  too,  turned  aside 
or  hid  their  faces  in  trembling  hands-  when  with  bowed 
head  Oswald  Dwight  was  led  by,  clasping  to  his  breast 
his  sobbing  little  boy.  There  were  some  who  said  that 
Dwight  could  never  have  pulled  up  again  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  Jimmy.  It  was  long  months  before  the  stricken 
soldier  wa-s  restored  to  them.  It  was  longer  still  before 

16 


A    FACE    FROM    THE    PHILIPPINES      17 

little  Jim  returned,  and  every  day  meantime,  after 
Dwight's  appearance,  regularly  as  he  rose  and  went 
silently  about  his  duties,  the  father  wrote  his  letter  to  be 
read  aloud  to  his  only  living  child,  and  the  one  thing  that 
spurred  the  merry-hearted  little  fellow  to  his  studies  was 
the  longing  to  read  and  to  answer  for  himself.  Jim's 
first  missive  to  his  father,  penned  by  his  own  infinite 
labor,  was  the  event  of  the  second  winter  at  Fort  Riley, 
for  it  was  shown  irr  succession  to  nearly  every  comrade 
and  to  every  even  remotely  sympathetic  woman  at  the 
post.  There  were  maidens  there  who  would  fain  have 
consoled  the  tall,  distinguished,  dark-eyed  trooper,  so 
interesting  in  his  depth  of  melancholy,  so  eligible  as  a 
catch,  for  Dwight,  for  an  army  man,  was  oddly  well  to 
do.  Obstinately,  however,  he  refused  all  consolation 
from  even  such  a  sympathetic  source,  and  would  for  long 
brook  no  companion  on  his  solitary  walks  or  rides.  All 
his  talk  now  was  of  his  boy.  All  his  thoughts,  plans, 
projects,  seemed  centering  on  little  Jim,  who,  for  the 
time  being,  had  to  be  housed  among  his  mother's  people. 
He  was  still  too  young  for  the  care  of  a  soldier-father 
who  any  day  might  be  compelled  to  take  the  field.  But 
then  came  station  at  Fort  Riley,  with  its  big  garrison, 
its  school  and  its  society,  and  then  the  yearning  at  his 
heart  could  no  longer  be  denied.  The  Wellands  nearly 
cried  their  eyes  out  when  Oswald,  toward  the  end  of  the 
third  "  leave "  since  Margaret's  death,  told  them  that 
the  time  for  which  he  had  scrupulously  sought  to  pre- 


18  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

.pare  them  had  come  at  last:  he  must  have  his  boy — he 
could  not  live  without  him. 

Then  when  Jimmy  came  it  seemed  as  though  an  entire 
garrison  had  started  in  to  spoil  him.  He  was  the  mer 
riest,  sunniest,  friendliest  little  chap,  frank,  brave  and 
even  beautiful,  with  all  his  mother's  lovely  coloring,  with 
her  deep,  heavily-lashed,  soulful,  violet  eyes,  with  her 
soft  curling  brown  hair,  with  her  sweet,  sensitive  mouth 
and  pretty  white  teeth.  No  wonder  big  Oswald  used  to 
set  him  on  his  knee  and  look  long  into  the  smiling  little 
face,  so  fond  and  trustful,  yet  filled  with  vague  wonder 
ment  why  daddy  should  so  wistfully  gaze  at  him;  and 
then  with  relief,  Jim  knew  not  why,  when  the  strong 
arms  would  suddenly  draw  the  lithe,  slender  little  body 
to  that  broad  and  heaving  chest  and  hold  it  there,  close 
strained,  while  bearded  lips  sought  and  kissed  again  and 
again  the  sunny  curls.  D wight  just  lived  for  that  boy, 
said  Fort  Riley,  small  blame  to  him !  Dwight  made  little 
Jim  his  friend,  his  confidant,  his  companion.  Jim  had  his 
own  little  pony  as  soon  as  he  could  safely  bestride  one. 
Jim  had  his  own  little  oamp  bed  in  the  room  opening  off 
his  father's.  Jim  had  his  own  shower  bath  rigged  up  in 
his  own  closet.  Jim  had  his  regular  setting-up  drill  and 
calisthenics,  with  daddy  himself  for  teacher,  his  rub- 
down  and  his  soldier  toilet,  with  daddy  to  teach  him 
breathing  exercises  that  took  the  oxygen  deep  down  into 
his  lungs  and  sent  the  red  blood  whirling  through  his 
sinewy  little  frame.  Jimmy  had  his  own  racket  for 


A    FACE    FROM    THE    PHILIPPINES      19 

tennis,  his  own  target  rifle,  his  own  kites,  tops,  marbles, 
soldiers  of  every  conceivable  size,  costume  and  corps, 
his  own  railway  tracks  and  trains,  his  own  books  and 
bookshelves,  his  own  desk  and  study  table — pretty  much 
everything  a  boy  could  have  except  his  own  way,  which 
he  was  the  better  without,  and  his  own  mother — with 
out  whom  boy  life  can  never  be  complete. 

Fort  Riley  could  be  censorious,  Heaven  knows,  when 
cause  existed,  and  sometimes  when  it  did  n't;  but,  save 
the  cherished  thought  of  certain  sentimental  women  that 
little  Jim  should  have  a  mother's  care  as  well  as  a 
father's,  Fort  Riley  had  few  critics  so  unwise  as  to  ques 
tion  Dwight's  methods  with  his  boy.  Jim  did  not  lack 
for  playfellows  of  his  own  age — the  fort  was  full  of  them 
and  they  as  full  of  mischief  and  merriment  as  even  army 
boys  are  apt  to  be ;  but,  though  at  school  and  in  the  "  all- 
round  "  sports  of  boyhood  Jim  mingled  with  them 
unreservedly,  the  father  had  made  it  his  business  to  know 
most  of  them  well  before  he  brought  Jim  to  take  his  initi 
ation  among  them.  There  were  some  few  whose  homes 
Jim  was  cautioned  not  to  visit.  There  were  some  whom, 
even  on  rainy  days  when  the  railway  was  in  successful 
operation  all  over  the  secotrd  story,  Jim  was  not  per 
mitted  to  invite  to  join  his  fellow-operatives.  A  few 
carping  critics  there  were  who  thought  such  indulgence 
would  be  sivre  to  spoil  any  boy,  but,  under  his  father's 
eye  and  guided  by  his  father's  hand,  Jim  worked  and 
studied  quite  as  steadily  as  he  played.  The  staff  of  the 


20  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

little  army  household  was  made  up  mainly  of  former 
trooper  Hentzler  and  his  buxom  wife,  Hentzler  being 
butler,  steward,  and  valet,  Frau  Hentzler  cook  and  house 
maid.  Mrs.  Feeny,  of  the  troop,  was  their  laundress, 
and  Trooper  Mehl  "  boots,"  striker  and  groom.  But  it 
was  Dwight  himself  who  roused  his  boy  for  his  morning 
bath  and  exercise,  who  sat  with  him  through  his  study 
hour,  saw  him  off  to  school ;  walked,  rode,  drove,  some 
times  shot  and  fished  with  him,  going  for  the  purpose 
far  up  the  Smoky  Hill.  It  was  Dwight  who  read  with 
him  after  their  evening  tea  and  who  finally  knelt  with 
him  night  after  night  before  he  tucked  the  little  fellow 
into  his  white  bed,  imploring  God's  guidance  for  himself, 
God's  blessing  for  his  boy. 

And  so  never  again  had  they  been  separated,  Dwight 
and  his  boy,  until  the  squadron  sailed  for  Manila  and 
little  Jim,  refusing  to  be  comforted,  had  been  left  with  his 
mother's  kindred  until  matters  should  shape  themselves 
in  the  Philippines.  But  the  shaping  process  that  might 
have  been  a  matter  only  of  months,  had  the  army  found 
no  other  enemy  than  the  insurgents  and  their  climate, 
proved  long  and  costly  in  life,  limb,  and  treasure,  thanks 
to  the  aid  and  comfort  given  that  enemy  by  our  fellow- 
men  at  home.  Dwight  had  led  his  squadron  through  a 
campaign  fierce  in  its  occasional  fighting,  but  well-nigh 
fatal  through  hardship  and  heat  prostration  to  many 
besides  himself.  Dwight  had  had  to  turn  over  his  com 
mand  to  Captain  Gridley,  his  next  in  rank,  and  go  to  the 


A    FACE    FROM    THE    PHILIPPINES      21 

sea  and  Corregidor  for  rest  and  recuperation.  What 
good  effects  might  have  been  obtained  were  offset  by  the 
court-martial  of  an  officer  whose  mind,  it  was  believed, 
had  been  affected  by  sunstroke,  yet  Captain  Dwight  was 
compelled  to  appear  and  remain  some  time  in  Manila  to 
testify  against  him.  He  returned  to  the  field  little  benefited 
by  the  enforced  separation  from  his  fellows,  and  speedily 
showed  symptoms  of  returning  prostration  that  led  the 
general  commanding  to  order  him  again  to  the  sea 
shore  and  recommend  his  being  sent  on  a  sea  voyage.  It 
was  during  this  voyage  that,  after  four  wonderful  days 
at  Nagasaki,  he  found  himself  daily,  almost  hourly,  in 
the  presence  of  Inez  Farrell,  as  beautiful  and  graceful 
a  girl  as  ever  his  eyes  had  seen.  He  was  strong  neither 
physically  nor  mentally.  He  was  still  an  invalid  when 
they  met  on  the  veranda  of  the  old  hotel  overlooking  that 
wonderful  land-locked  harbor.  He  had  by  no  means 
forgotten  the  impression  created  by  her  beauty  and  her 
lissome  grace  when  dancing  at  the  club  at  Manila.  He 
was  invited  by  Major  Farrell  to  be  one  of  their  little 
party  on  a  rickshaw  ride  over  the  green  hills  to  Mogi. 
It  was  an  ideal  day.  It  was  an  ideal  night,  with  the 
moon  nearing  full  as  they  sat  later  on  the  upper  veranda, 
gazing  out  upon  the  riding  lights  of  the  shipping  thick- 
clustered  on  the  placid  bosom  of  the  bay.  It  was  fol 
lowed  by  other  nights  as  beautiful  both  ashore  and  at 
sea.  He  was  twenty  years  her  senior,  yet  she  seemed  to 
look  for  him,  wait  for  him,  prefer  him  in  every  way  to 


22  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

younger    officers,    also    homeward    bound,    and    these 
youngsters  left  him  to  his  fate. 

What  time  he  was  not  walking  the  deck,  with  her 
little  hand  resting  on  his  arm,  or  flung  in  long,  low 
steamer  chair  close  to  hers,  where  he  could  watch  the 
wondrous  beauty  of  her  face  and  feel  the  spell  of  her 
soft,  languorous,  lovely  eyes,  Dwight  found  himself  in 
converse  with  her  father,  a  patriotic  quartermaster,  the 
owner  of  valuable  properties  in  the  Lone  Star  State,  to 
which  he  must  speedily  return — his  "boys,"  two  nephews, 
were  not  trained  to  business,  said  he,  and  they,  too,  had 
been  seeing  service  and  unsettling  their  minds  and  habits 
with  the  volunteers  that  didn't  get  to  Cuba.  His  daugh 
ter  was  his  chief  anxiety,  he  admitted.  She  had  her 
mother's  luxurious  Spanish  temperament ;  needed  a  guid 
ing  hand — a  husband  to  whom  she  could  look  up  with 
respect  and  honor,  not  a  callow  youngster  with  no  ideas 
beyond  scheming  for  promotion  and  better  pay.  Several 
of  these  young  chaps  had  been  buzzing  about  her  at 
Manila,  but  she  had  "  turned  them  all  down,"  said 
Farrell.  She  had  sense  and  power  of  observation  with 
all  her  possibly  romantic  admiration  for  soldiers,  but 
what  she  really  admired  was  the  real  soldier — a  man 
fit  to  command  and  lead,  a  man  with  a  record  behind 
him,  not  an  uncertainty  ahead.  Dwight's  seat,  at  the 
request  of  the  veteran  general  officer  going  with  them 
to  the  States,  had  been  at  the  captain's  table,  but  Dwight 
soon  effected — at  least  Farrell  effected  and  Dwight  got 


A    FACE    FROM    THE    PHILIPPINES      23 

the  (/^credit  of  it — a  transfer  with  the  officer  who  had 
been  seated  at  the  side  of  Inez  Farrell,  and  Dwight's 
mental  condition  can  perhaps  be  judged  of  by  the  fact 
that  he  never  noticed  that  General  Hume  thereafter  not 
once  addressed  him  on  the  voyage. 

Enough  said.  Oswald  Dwight's  many  friends 
throughout  the  service  read  with  much  surprise,  most  of 
them  with  vague  disquietude  and  some  few  with  down 
right  dismay,  the  announcement  of  the  marriage  at  Los 
Angeles,  by  the  Right  Reverend  the  Bishop  of  the  Dio 
cese,  assisted  by  the  Very  Reverend  Fathers  Moran  and 
Finley,  at  the  Church  of  the  Immaculate  Conception,  of 
Inez,  only  daughter  of  Major  and  Quartermaster  James 
O'Donohue  Farrell,  U.  S.  V.,  of  Santa  Rosita,  Texas, 
and  Maria  Mercedes  de  la  Cruz  y  Mendoza  y  Fronteras, 
his  wife,  to  Captain  Oswald  M.  Dwight,  — th  U.  S. 
Cavalry. 

When  the  happy  pair  set  forth  upon  their  wedding 
journey  some  comment  was  created  by  the  fact  that, 
while  they  went  to  New  Orleans,  the  parents  of  the  bride 
did  not  go  to  Texas,  as  had  been  planned.  Moreover, 
the  major,  it  seems,  had  not  anticipated  that  orders  hon 
orably  discharging  him  from  the  volunteer  service  would 
meet  him  within  the  week  of  his  arrival  within  the 
Golden  Gate.  Officers  of  the  Department  Staff,  inter 
rogated  on  the  subject,  said  little  but  looked  volumes. 
Major  Blake,  of  the  Cavalry,  an  old  and  intimate  friend 
of  the  Rays,  wa§  understood  to  say  that  it  was  a  wonder 


24  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

the  major  had  been  honorably  discharged  at  all.  Far- 
rell,  who  was  to  have  gone  to  his  Texas  property,  found 
that  certain  mines  in  Mexico  demanded  immediate  look 
ing  after.  Indeed,  it  was  this  fact  that  precipitated  an 
earlier  marriage  than  Miss  Farrell,  whose  trousseau  was 
by  no  means  in  readiness,  had  for  a  moment  contem 
plated.  Farrell  said  he  might  be  as  much  as  six  months 
in  the  mountains  beyond  Guadalajara  and  other  places. 
The  senora  had,  of  course,  wealthy  kindred  with  whom 
she  could  stay  at  Mexico  or  Vera  Cruz,  but  the  hitch 
was  about  Inez,  who,  said  her  father,  was  so  American 
ized  that  she  couldn't  get  along  with  her  mother's  people 
— they  were  forever  at  swords'  points,  and  what  more 
natural  than  that  the  ardent  swain  should  promptly 
urge  immediate  union;  then  the  Farrells  could  go  their 
way  in  peace  and  he  could  bear  away  his  beautiful  bride 
to  the  Atlantic  seaboard,  to  be  made  known  to  his  people, 
and  to  embrace  little  Jim.  To  this  Inez  responded  coyly 
that  she  could  not  think  of  such  a  plan.  She  could  not 
go  back  to  San  Francisco,  a  bride,  in  the  gowns  she 
wore  while  there  as  Miss  Farrell.  Then  said  Dwight, 
we'll  go  straight  to  New  Orleans,  where  her  mother  had 
many  friends  and  kinsfolk,  where  the  best  of  modistes 
abound,  where  everything  a  bride  could  possibly  wear 
could  surely  be  found,  and  Farrell  added  his  dictum  to 
the  pleadings  of  the  groom-elect.  The  plan  appealed  to 
him  most,  as  it  would  cost  him  least. 

When  Farrell  gave  them  his  tearful  benediction  and 


A    FACE    FROM    THE    PHILIPPINES      25 

farewell,  ten  thousand  dollars  of  Dwight's  money  was 
stowed  away  in  bills  of  exchange  on  the  City  of  Mexico 
for  investment  in  the  fabulous  mines  of  the  Sierras,  and 
Dwight's  signature  was  on  the  back  of  one  or  two  bills 
left  in  the  hands  of  Farrell's  friends  and  correspondents 
at  the  Bank  of  California,  purely,  of  course,  for  safe 
keeping.  And  so  they  went  on  their  respective  ways, 
Farrell  not  soon  to  be  seen  in  God's  country  again. 

Three  months  later,  with  little  Jim  at  his  side  and 
the  young  step-mother  dawdling  along  after  them  in 
her  easy  carriage,  Captain  Dwight  was  tramping  through 
Switzerland.  The  surgeons  had  said  in  so  many  words 
he  must  not  return  to  the  Philippines  for  half  a  year, 
and  neither  before  nor  after  his  marriage  had  a  word 
reached  him  from  the  Rays,  who  were  his  next-door 
neighbors  and  Margaret's  most  devoted  friends  until 
Jimmy  was  nearly  two  years  old.  Even  thereafter, 
though  stationed  far  apart,  Marion  Ray  and  Margaret 
Dwight  had  kept  up  their  correspondence  almost  to  the 
end.  Dwight,  indeed,  had  seen  barely  half  a  dozen  of 
his  former  comrades,  and  that  only  by  accident  and  in 
haste.  There  had  come  since  his  second  marriage  the 
usual  number  of  cards  in  response  to  the  wedding  an 
nouncement  sent  to  so  many  friends  both  in  and  out  of 
the  army.  There  had  come  a  curiously  unusual  dearth 
of  letters  of  congratulation.  But  every  man  was  on  the 
move,  he  persuaded  himself.  Everybody  was  either  busy 
in  the  Philippines  or  voyaging  to  or  from  them.  They, 


26  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

too,  were  moving  from  pillar  to  post,  and  letters  must 
be  miscarrying,  so  few,  for  instance,  had  come  from 
Father-in-law  Farrell,  and  those  that  did  come  made  no 
mention  of  matters  Farrell  could  hardly  have  ignored, 
and  that  Dwight  had  rather  counted  on. 

Still,  Dwight's  health  was  mending  every  week.  Inez 
had  seen  so  much  of  foreign  life  in  her  younger  days 
she  could  not  be  expected  to  care  to  go  poking  about,  as 
he  did  with  Jimmy,  into  all  manner  of  odd  nooks  and 
corners.  Father  and  son  once  more  were  hand  in  hand — 
hand  in  glove — for  hours  each  day,  and  but  for  a  shyness 
Jim  would  surely  soon  get  over — a  queer,  silent  shrink 
ing  from  his  beautiful  young  mother — but  for  this  and 
one  or  two  little  worries  due  to  the  non-appearance  of 
letters  that  ought  to  have  come  and  doubtless  would 
come,  Dwight  strove  to  persuade  himself  that  he  was 
again  a  happy  and  an  enviable  man. 

Then  came  a  day  that  left  its  impress  on  them  all. 
There  had  been  something  very  like  demur  on  part  of 
the  Welland  family  when  Dwight  first  announced  his 
intention  of  taking  Jimmy  with  them  to  see  the  Old 
World.  What  would  Inez — they  spoke  her  name  with 
effort — think  of  such  a  plan?  Was  not  a  young  bride 
justified  in  expecting  the  undivided  attention  of  her  hus 
band?  Would  not  any  girl,  placed  as  she  was,  prefer  a 
honeymoon  unclouded  by  the  presence  of  the  children  of 
her  predecessor?  Inez  had  not  warmed  to  her  other 
kindred  by  marriage;  could  she  be  expected  to  welcome 


A    FACE    FROM    THE    PHILIPPINES      27 

and,  all  at  once,  to  warm  to  little  Jim?  Conscientiously 
and  consistently  they  had  tried  to  like  Inez,  and  could 
not.  She  was  beautiful;  she  was  appealing;  she  was 
apparently  all  desire  to  please,  but  she  was  not  con 
vincing.  The  more  they  saw  of  her  the  less  they  liked, 
but  Dwight's  infatuation  was  complete.  And  still  he 
would  have  his  boy,  and  they  spoke  at  last.  He  had 
answered  by  summoning  her  to  the  room — a  strange 
proceeding — and  bidding  her  speak  for  him,  and  she  did. 
She  said  her  heart  had  yearned  for  little  Jim  ever  since 
the  captain  first  began  to  tell  of  him,  and  when  she 
realized  later  how  utterly  the  father's  heart  was  bound 
up  in  his  boy,  she  had  prayed  for  guidance  that  she  might 
prove  a  second  mother  to  the  little  fellow,  and  it  was 
her  earnest  desire  that  the  lad  might  come  with  them. 
How  else  was  she  to  hope  to  win  his  trust,  his  affection? 
There  was  nothing  left  for  them  to  say;  but  the  dread 
and  desolation  that  fell  upon  the  household  when,  for 
the  second  time,  they  were  compelled  to  part  with  Mar 
garet's  boy,  no  one  but  the  Wellands  was  permitted  to 
know, 

Inez,  who  had  been  a  model  sailor  on  the  Pacific, 
kept  much  to  her  stateroom  on  the  gray  Atlantic,  though 
the  voyage  was  unusually  placid.  Nor  had  she  later 
made  much  effort  in  her  quest  for  Jimmy's  trust  and 
affection.  She  could  not  climb  mountains,  pedal  wheels 
or  ride  quadrupeds.  She  cared  little  for  scenery — she 
had  seen  so  much  in  her  girlhood.  She  admitted  feeling 


28  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

languid  and  inert.  Perhaps  mountain  air  was  not  con 
genial.  She  would  be  better  when  they  got  to  sunny 
Italy.  She  wished  there  to  see  everything  and  to  live  in 
the  open  air — it  was  what  the  doctor  said  the  captain 
must  do — and  then  she  was  always  exquisitely  gowned 
and  ready  to  meet  them  when  in  the  late  afternoon  they 
came  home,  all  aglow,  with  just  time  to  get  out  of  their 
tweeds  and  into  dinner  dress.  Then  Jimmy  went  early 
to  bed,  and  she  had  the  long  beautiful  evenings  with 
her  husband.  But  now  they  were  in  sunny  Italy  and, 
except  to  drive  in  beauteous  toilets  and  dine  in  evening 
garb  still  more  resplendent,  Inez  had  no  interest  in  her 
surroundings  and  but  little  in  Jim.  They  were  to  sail 
for  home,  taking  the  Hohenzollern  at  Naples,  after  the 
Easter  week  in  Rome.  They  had  been  driving  much  of 
the  day  and  dining  early  on  the  balcony  of  their  hotel, 
looking  out  upon  the  glorious  view  toward  Sorrento  and 
Capri,  with  grim  Vesuvius,  smoke-crowned,  in  the  mid 
dle  distance.  Any  moment,  said  their  host,  they  should 
sight  the  graceful  hull  of  their  expected  steamer  cleav 
ing  the  blue  beyond  the  rocky  scarp  of  Posilipo,  when 
Jimmy,  gazing  steadily  through  the  glass  at  the  crowding 
fleet  of  shipping  off  the  Dogana,  spoke  excitedly :  "  It 
is  our  flag,  daddy,  and  the  funnel  has  three  stripes ! " 

"  A  transport,"  said  his  father,  who  had  been  bending 
over  Inez.  "  She  must  have  come  in  while  we  were 
driving."  Yet,  even  as  he  spoke,  anxiously,  tenderly,  he 
was  studying  her  face. 


A    FACE    FROM    THE    PHILIPPINES      29 

"  Then — that  was  one  of  our  officers  that  spoke  to 
you,  mamma?"  said  Jim,  turning  quickly,  eagerly 
toward  her. 

She  had  been  unusually  inert  and  silent  since  their 
return,  had  herself  suggested  dinner  on  the  balcony.  It 
would  save  the  bother  of  dressing,  and  then  repacking, 
since  they  might  have  to  go  on  board  any  hour  that 
evening.  She  had  been  gazing  listlessly  out  over  the 
beautiful  bay,  almost  dazzling  in  the  rays  of  the  setting 
sun.  Now  she  suddenly  started,  shivered,  but  almost 
as  suddenly,  quickly  rallied. 

"  Spoke  to  me,  Jimmy !  Why,  child,  you've  been 
dreaming ! " 

"  Why,  no,  mamma !  Don't  you  remember — while 
daddy  was  in  at  the  bank  ? "  and  the  boy's  big  violet 
eyes  turned  full  upon  her.  The  white  hands  gripped  the 
arm  of  her  reclining  chair,  but  she  laughed  lightly,  and 
the  words  came  quick. 

"  Jimmy  boy,  you  were  sound  asleep  on  the  front  seat. 
Don't  you  remember,  Oswald,  dear  ?  " 

Dwight,  too,  laughed  merrily.  "  Surely !  Why,  little 
man,  your  peepers  were  shut  and  you  were  curled  up 
like  a  pussy  cat " 

"  But  I'd  waked  up,  daddy.  Mamma  gave  a  little 
scream  and  I  thought  somebody  'd  hurt  her,  and  there 
was  this  gentleman  with  his  hat  raised,  just  standing 
and  staring  at  her  till  she  bent  over  and  said  something 
quick » 


SO  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

"Well,  of  all  the  traeumbilder  I  ever  heard!"  and 
Mrs.  Dwight's  pearly  teeth  gleamed  through  rosy  lips 
as  she  laughed  delightedly,  merrily.  "  Why,  Jimmy  boy, 
I  had  to  shake  you  awake  when  I  saw  papa  coming. 
That's  what  I  bent  forward  for.  You  called  him  for 
something,  dear,  or  I  should  n't  have  disturbed  him." 

"  Certainly,  I  wanted  him  to  see  those  Italian  cavalry 
officers  coming  by,  and  his  eyes  could  hardly  open  in 
time.  Just  look  at  'em  now." 

They  were,  indeed,  worth  looking  at — big  and  violet, 
blue  and  round  and  full  of  wonderment,  of  incredulity — 
almost  of  shock  and  distress — gazing  fixedly  upon  the 
lovely,  laughing  face  of  the  girl  in  the  deep  reclining 
chair. 

And  then,  soft  stepping,  apologetic,  salver  in  hand,  a 
waiter  appeared  at  the  long  Venetian  window.  Dwight 
took  the  card,  read,  and  fairly  cried  aloud : 

"  By  all  that's-  jolly,  Inez,  it's  Sandy  Ray !  " 


CHAPTER    III 

A   NIGHT   AT    NAPLES 

THERE  was  a  joyous  time  at  the  Salone  Mar- 
gherita  that  evening.  Homeward  bound,  the 
Burnside,  from  Manila  to  New  York  via  Suez, 
had  anchored  that  morning  off  the  Dogana  quay,  and 
twoscore  officers  and  ladies  and  a  numerous  contin 
gent  of  discharged  soldiers  had  come  swarming  ashore  to 
see  what  they  could  of  Naples  before  again  proceeding  on 
the  morrow.  The  fact  that  most  of  the  officers  were 
invalided  home,  convalescing  from  wounds  or  severe 
illness,  seemed  but  moderately  to  cloud  their  enjoyment. 
By  six  o'clock  most  of  their  number  had  heard  that 
Dwight  of  the  cavalry,  with  his  bride,  was  at  the  Grand, 
whither  several  went  at  once  before  ordering  dinner. 
First  to  arrive,  alone,  and  looking  pallid  and  ill,  was 
a  young  soldier  in  civilian  dress,  who  seemed  nervously 
impatient  at  the  delay  that  followed  the  sending  up  of 
his  card,  and  by  no  means  delighted  when  three  or  four 
of  his  fellows  came  in  and  followed  suit  before  his  own 
was  acknowledged.  So  uncompanionable,  indeed,  was 
he  that  he  stepped  outside  to  the  southward  terrace  as 
though  to  avoid  these  others,  and,  but  for  the  cards,  the 
observant  portier  might  have  thought  them  strangers  to 

31 


32  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

each  other.  The  late  arrivals,  as  a  rule,  were  garbed  in 
khaki,  just  as  they  had  come  away  from  Manila,  and 
were  objects  of  polite  curiosity  to  the  elegantly  capped, 
cloaked  and  uniformed  Italian  officers  sauntering  in  from 
the  Piazza  Umberto,  many  of  whom  saluted  courteously, 
though  few  could  tell  from  the  dress  worn  by  the  Amer 
icans  which  was  officer  and  which  was  private  soldier. 

It  was  full  fifteen  minutes  before  Captain  Dwight 
appeared,  though  little  Jim  had  come  bounding  down  the 
carpeted  stairway  all  joy  at  seeing  a  face  or  two  he  well 
remembered,  and  in  meeting  new  friends,  who  were  un 
speakably  welcome  because  they  were  soldiers,  American 
soldiers,  our  soldiers.  Father,  he  said,  would  be  down  in 
a  moment.  Mamma  was  not  quite  well,  over-tired,  per 
haps,  from  the  long  drive  and  day  at  sight-seeing  and 
shopping.  Even  when  Dwight  appeared,  shaking  hands 
most  cordially,  rejoicefully,  with  all,  and,  indeed,  nearly 
embracing  Sandy  Ray,  whom  he  had  known  since  that 
young  gentleman's  babyhood,  it  was  a  disappointment  to 
all  his  visitors  that  he  seemed  worried  and  harassed.  Mrs. 
Dwight,  he  explained,  had  not  benefited  as  they  had 
hoped  by  the  journeyings  abroad,  and  she  had  just  had 
something  like  a  sinking  spell.  They  would  have  to 
excuse  her  a  while.  She'd  be  down  later.  "  But  you, 
too,  Sandy  boy !  What  a  tough  time  you  must  have  been 
having!  I  had  n't  heard  of  your  being  ill.  I  have  n't 
heard  anything,  in  fact.  Your  father  has  n't  written  to 
me  at  all.  What  has  been  the  matter?  " 


A    NIGHT    AT    NAPLES  33 

And  then  it  appeared  that  Sandy  had  been  ailing  for 
weeks  on  top  of  a  not  very  serious  wound,  "  was  n't  at 
all  fit,"  yet  did  n't  wish  to  come  home — had  been  ordered 
out  of  the  Islands,  in  fact.  And  then,  as  it  further  ap 
peared,  when  Dwight  turned,  looking  for  little  Jim,  all 
eagerness  that  Sandy  should  see  how  splendidly  the  lad 
was  grown  and  developed  since  their  parting  in  Arizona 
years  ago,  when  Jimmy  was  just  beginning  to  toddle 
about  and  talk,  there  stood  the  boy,  his  big  blue  eyes 
fixed  on  the  pallid,  solemn  face  of  Lieutenant  Ray  with 
a  look  of  bewilderment  and  trouble.  Fowne  of  the 
Engineers  spoke  of  it  later  to  Foster,  who  just  at  that 
moment  had  seized  Jimmy  and  swung  him  to  his  shoul 
der,  where,  instead  of  gleefully  pounding  his  captor's 
head  and  laughing  merrily,  as  of  old  he  would  have 
done,  Jimmy  was*  straining  his  violet  blue  eyes  again, 
staring  after  Ray,  whom  a  waiter,  bearing  his  card,  had 
summoned  to  follow  him.  Three  or  four  of  the  laughing 
party  at  the  moment  had  surrounded  Dwight,  compelling 
him  with  their  chatter,  so  that  he  stood  with  a  hand  still 
extended  toward  the  spot  where  Jimmy  had'  been  stand 
ing,  and  did  not  even  see  that  Ray  had  been  summoned 
and  was  gone.  Question  and  answer  were  flying  thick 
and  fast,  for  full  five  minutes  before,  looking  about  him, 
Dwight  missed  his  boy.  Foster,  finding  the  little  fellow 
unresponsive,  at  least,  had  presently  set  him  down,  and 
then,  plunging  eagerly  into  the  talk  over  the  latest  news 
paper  tidings  of  the  doings  of  the  Islands — of  Otis's  prob- 


34  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

able  home-coming  and  MacArthur's  succeeding  to  the 
command,  of  what  could  be  looked  for  at  Samar  and 
Mindanao — he,  too,  had  lost  sight  of  the  lad,  "  Hullo !  " 
said  Dwight,  "  Jimmy  has  taken  possession  of  Ray. 
Well,  that's  as  it  should  be.  How  was  Gridley  when 
you  last  saw  him,  Foster?  And  tell  me  about  the  Gil- 
lettes.  They  were  mighty  kind  to  me  when  I  was  so 
knocked  out  after  Bender's  trial.  Fit  now?  I  should 
say  so!  Never  felt  finer  in  my  life.  I'm  going  back  to 
Manila  just  as  soon  as  I  can  place  my  wife  and  Jimmy, 
no  matter  what  the  doctors  say." 

And  so  it  happened  that,  for  ten  minutes  or  more, 
neither  Lieutenant  Ray  nor  little  Jim  was  greatly  missed. 
But  then  Dwight  began  bethinking  him  it  was  high  time 
for  Inez  to  appear.  She  had  promised  to  come  down 
and  meet  his  old  comrades.  Only  a  few  minutes  would 
be  needed,  she  declared,  in  which  "  to  prink  a  bit."  She 
had  been  looking  so  white,  or  yellow,  rather — so  wan 
and  weak,  yet,  after  a  bumper  of  champagne,  had  rallied 
gallantly,  had  bidden  him  run  down  to  meet  them  and 
keep  them  entertained.  She'd  soon  be  there.  That  was 
now  full  twenty  minutes  back,  and  these  fellows  were 
getting  impatient  for  dinner.  The  head  waiter  was  even 
now  announcing  that  their  table  was  in  readiness. 
Excusing  himself  a  moment,  Dwight  hastened  from  the 
salon  and  ran  swiftly  up  to  their  apartments.  She  was 
not  there.  He  went  out  upon  the  gallery — the  last  look 
by  day  over  that  incomparable  panorama  of  earth  and 


A    NIGHT    AT    NAPLES  35 

sea  and  sky,  for  the  sun  was  just  kissing  the  far  west 
ward  wave  and  throwing  a  glow  of  ruddy  gold  all  over 
the  Vesuvian  shore.  The  waiter  was  clearing  the  table. 
Would  the  signor  finish  his  wine?  The  signor  needed 
none.  Since  that  heat  prostration  in  Luzon,  Dwight 
found  that  a  single  glass  would  sometimes  go  to  his 
head,  and  so  when  Inez  was  fatigued  on  land  or  ill  at 
sea,  and  on  her  account  he  had  ordered  champagne,  he 
merely  sipped  it,  as  it  were,  for  her  sake.  There  stood 
the  generous  flask  still  beaded  with  its  icy  dew,  but  most 
of  its  contents  were  gone.  So  was  Inez.  That  waiter 
had  then  the  proverbial  "  cheek  "  of  his  class — to  drink 
half  their  wine  and  offer  the  signor  the  dregs.  No,  he 
wished  no  wine.  Where  was  the  signora?  The  signora, 
with  the  signorino,  said  the  waiter,  had  been  there  but 
the  moment  before.  The  signora  had  reentered  her 
apartment  as  the  signor  ascended.  Dwight  tapped  at 
her  window,  and  presently  her  voice  answered  him,  in 
apparent  exasperation.  She  had  been  having  "  no  end 
of  bother "  changing  her  gown.  She  could  n't  come 
down  to  meet  his  friends  in  the  dusty  traveling  suit  she 
had  worn  all  day.  She  had  hunted  through  two  trunks 
before  she  found  what  she  needed,  and  was  so  sorry  for 
the  delay,  but  she  heard  the  party  was  to  dine  there. 
She  had  a  maid  to  help  her  now,  so  she  was  trying  to 
look  her  best  and  be  worthy  of  him.  Could  he  help  in 
some  way?  Oh,  dear  no.  Run  back  to  them,  there's 
a  good  boy,  and  in  a  few  minutes  she  would  be  there. 


36  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

So  Dwight  returned  to  the  laughing  party  and  went 
with   them   to   their  table   and   sat   with   them— an   odd 
group   in   their   service-worn    suits    of   khaki   amid   the 
sumptuously     attired     guests     in     the     brilliant     room. 
Yet  even  among  the  wearers  of  the  handsome   Italian 
uniform    the    incessant    glances    toward    the    American 
party  were   far  from  critical.     These  men  had  but  re 
cently  seen  sharp  service,  and  soldiers  respect  and  envy 
soldier  achievement.     It  was   Dwight  who  first  missed 
and  asked  for  Ray.     Ray?    Why,  Ray  was  n't  of  our 
party.    Ray  was  n't  of  any  party,  in  fact.    Ray  was  "  off 
his  feed,  if  not  off  his  base."     The  fellow  was  utterly 
hipped,  said  Foster.     "No  more  like  his  father  than  I 
to  Hercules,  and  nobody  knows  why."    Ray  came  ashore 
with  the  rest  of  the  crowd,  had  business  at  Cook's  Bank, 
wandered  off  by  himself  and  had  been  mooning  by  him 
self  most  of  the  voyage.     Foster  buried  his  muzzle  deep 
in  his  brimming  glass  of  Chianti  and  did  n't  care  a  billy 
what  had  become  of  young  Ray.    Gone  back  to  the  ship, 
probably,  to  sit  and  sulk  the  rest  of  the  voyage.     Obvi 
ously  the  quartette  was  out  for  pleasure,  and  Ray  would 
have  been  a  spoil-sport.     None  the  less,  Dwight  felt  that 
he  should  find  him,  if  possible,  and  so  went  to  the  office. 
But  assuredly,  said  the  smiling,  gold-banded  official,  the 
tenente  departed  as  they  were  all  in  conversation.     The 
tenente  wished  not  to  disturb  them.    The  signorino  went 
with  him  to  his  carriage  and,  behold !  the  signorino  him 
self!     Jimmy,   indeed,   came  through  the  portal  at  the 


A    NIGHT    AT    NAPLES  37 

moment  from  the  Piazza.  Umberto  side,  but  not  the 
blithe,  bounding,  joyous  Jimmy  of  trie  morning.  The 
young  face  was  clouded  with  a  look  the  father  never 
before  had  seen,  and  when  he  called  and  Jimmy  suddenly 
turned  and  saw  him,  though  the  bright  eyes  lighted 
instantly  with  all  the  old  love — perhaps,  too,  with  some 
relief — the  cloud  did  not  entirely  vanish,  nor  did  the 
boy  come  bounding.  He  ran ;  he  took  his  father's  hand 
and  looked  up  in  his  face,  and  when  he  was  asked  what 
he  had  done  with  Mr.  Ray,  said  slowly :  "  Why,  daddy, 
he  is  n't  a  bit  like  what  I  'sposed  he'd  be.  He  only  spoke 
to  mamma  a  minute  or  two,  and — I  guess  he  is  n't  well. 
He  did  n't  have  time  to  speak  to  me — he  hardly  said 
good-by,  or — anything." 

"  Oh,  then  mamma  saw  Mr.  Ray !  I'm  glad  of  that," 
said  Dwight,  though  remembering  she  had  not  men 
tioned  it. 

"  Yes,  on  the  gallery/'  said  Jimmy.  "  At  least,  I  sup 
pose  so.  He  came  out  through  the  corridor,  and  then 
mamma  sent  me  after  him  with  the  gloves  he  had  left. 

I  wanted  to  ask  him "  hesitated  Jimmy.  He  did  not 

know  whether  to  go  on  or  not,  but  he  need  not  have 
worried.  Papa  had  suddenly  turned  from  him,  turned 
to  meet  his  new  mamma — his  beautiful  young  mamma, 
who,  with  bared  neck  and  arms,  in  dinner  toilet,  was 
coming  slowly  and  with  trailing  skirts  down  the  broad 
and  carpeted  stairway  and  looking  more  radiant  and 
beautiful  than  Jimmy  ever  before  had  seen  her;  she 


58  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

whom,  a  few  minutes  earlier,  he  had  found  on  the  gallery 
pallid  and  excited,  trembling  from  weakness,  perhaps. 
Now  she  had  diamonds  in  her  ears  and  at  her  creamy 
throat,  diamonds  flashing  in  her  corsage.  There  were 
shimmer  and  spangle  and  firefly  sparklings  in  the  lus 
trous  folds  of  her  gown.  There  were  starlight  twin 
klings  from  the  bands  of  those  wondrous,  dainty,  high- 
heeled  little  "  slipper  shoes,"  as  Jimmy  called  them. 
There  were  glowworm  gems  in  the  dark  masses  of  her 
luxuriant  hair.  There  were  rich  and  precious  stones 
upon  her  slender,  clasping  ringers,  for  Dwight  had  been 
lavish  to  an  extent  he  only  now  began  to  realize,  for, 
though  his  heart  leaped  in  unison  with  the  instant  ad 
miration  and  worship  in  his  eyes,  it  ached  in  strange, 
dull  foreboding  and  reproach  for  the  thought  that  in 
stantly  seized  him:  How  utterly  unlike  Margaret! 

A  moment  later  and  the  men  in  khaki  were  being  pre 
sented.  They  had  sprung  to  their  feet  at  sight  of  the 
radiant  vision  in  the  doorway,  where  for  a  moment  Inez 
seemed  to  hesitate.  Beautiful  she  was  beyond  question, 
with  the  rich,  dusky  beauty  of  the  passionate  South,  and 
they  who  gazed  upon  her  marveled  not  at  the  lover 
worship  in  Dwight's  deep-set  eyes — at  the  pride  with 
which  he  watched  her  gracious,  graceful,  yet  half-appeal 
ing  and  timid  acknowledgment  of  their  soldier  homage. 
They  made  way  for  her,  and  would  have  it  that  she 
should  sit  with  them  as  they  lingered  a  few  moments 
over  their  wine.  And  then  Farnham,  their  senior  pres- 


A    NIGHT    AT    NAPLES  39 

ent,  raised  his  glass  to  her  with  a  word  of  soldier  com 
pliment  and  greeting,  after  the  manner  of  the  days  of 
his  forefathers,  and  they  joined  in  the  toast,  one  and 
all,  and  Inez  blushed  and  beamed  upon  them,  and  looked 
up  into  her  husband's  eyes  as  though  begging  that  he 
should  speak  for  her,  and  sipped  just  the  tiniest  ripple 
from  the  brimming  glass  of  champagne.  They  had  not 
too  much  time,  for  boxes  had  been  reserved  for  all  their 
party  at  the  Salone  Margherita,  and  could  not — would 
not  Mrs.  Dwight  and  the  captain  join  them?  Several 
of  the  ladies  from  the  transport  were  to  be  with  them, 
and  now  it  would  be  incomplete  without  Mrs.  Dwight. 
Again  the  deep,  dark,  lustrous  eyes  sought  the  husband's 
face,  as  though  she  would  say  in  this,  as  in  everything, 
he  must  decide.  The  transport  was  to  proceed  at  dawn. 
The  Hohenzollern  could  not  be  going  earlier.  How  she 
would  shine,  this  bird  of  paradise,  among  those  simply- 
garbed  army  women  who  perforce  were  limited  to  such 
toilets  as  could  be  evolved  from  the  little  steamer  trunks. 
It  was  Dwight  who  negatived  the  project.  She  would 
be  utterly  overdressed  for  the  place  and  the  occasion, 
but  he  based  his  regrets  upon  the  long  and  fatiguing 
day,  the  packing  that  had  to  be  done,  the  coming  at  any 
moment  of  their  ship.  Even  now  she  was  announced, 
said  Jimmy,  hastening  in.  And  so  the  others  went  their 
way  without  the  D wights  and  joined  their  fellow-voy 
agers  in  their  revel,  the  merriest  group  in  all  that  laugh 
ing  company,  and  only  once  or  twice  did  someone,  some 


40  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

gentle-hearted  woman,  speak  the  thought  that  more  than 
once  or  twice  occurred  to  many  present:  Why  should 
Sandy  Ray  have  withdrawn  from  all  companionship? 
Someone  said  he  had  returned  to  the  steamer — alone. 

It  was  long  after  midnight  when  they  came  rippling 
back  to  the  huge  bulk  of  the  troopship,  with  silver  rain 
ing  from  the  blades  of  their  oars  into  the  sparkling 
bosom  of  that  wondrous  bay.  A  joyous  little  flotilla  of 
Neapolitan  water  craft  was  theirs,  for  they  had  chartered 
several  of  the  clumsy,  unwieldly  looking,  yet  most  serv 
iceable  barklings,  each  with  its  dusky,  brown-throated 
oarsman.  They  had  spent  some  merry  hours  after  the 
long,  hot  voyage  through  Indian  seas  and  under  torrid 
skies.  They  had  heard  much  catchy  music  that  all  could 
appreciate  and  few  words,  fortunately,  that  any  could 
understand.  They  were  chatting  and  singing  and  recall 
ing  the  brilliant  scene,  the  dazzling  lights,  the  lustrous 
corridor  and  stairway  of  pure  white  marble,  the  coaxing, 
wheedling  swarm  of  beggar  children,  the  sharp  and  ever- 
recurrent  contrast  between  splendid  opulence  and  squalid 
misery,  and  as  they  circled  under  the  massive  overhang 
of  their  stanch  and  trusty  ship,  and  one  after  another 
each  merry  boatload  came  again  in  full  view  of  the 
frowning  cone  of  old  Vesuvius,  belching  lurid  flame  and 
billowing  ruddy  streams  of  molten  lava  from  its  crest, 
some  sweet-voiced  woman  in  the  foremost  boat  uplifted 
her  heart  in  the  barcarole  from  "  Masaniello  " :  "  Behold 
how  brightly  breaks  the  morning,"  and,  though  morning 


A    NIGHT    AT    NAPLES  41 

was  yet  some  hours  away,  here  but  a  league  or  two  across 
the  star-reflecting  deep  and  under  the  shoulder  of  the 
mountain  furnace  lay  the  vine-covered  walls  of  Portici, 
where  first  was  trilled  that  exquisite  welcome  to  Aurora. 
And  so  with  music  and  merriment  and  laughter,  home 
ward  bound  from  distant  service  in  defense  of  a  beloved 
flag,  they  came  trooping  up  the  side,  the  opulence  of 
their  gladness  all  the  sharper  contrast  to  the  dull  apathy 
of  one  lone  watcher  who  shrank  from  their  approach 
and  sought  seclusion  across  the  deck  and  in  the  shadow 
of  the  long  boat. 

Ray  was  not  in  his  stateroom  when  Foster  bustled 
thither  to  inquire.  Ray  had  returned  some  hours  before, 
said  the  ship's  official  on  duty.  Ray  was  not  found, 
however,  until  nearly  four  bells,  when  Foster,  who  had 
smoked  too  much  to  feel  sleepy  and  wished  to  "  stay  up 
and  see  Vesuvius,  anyhow,"  made  an  extended  inspection 
of  the  silent  deck.  Foster  had  taken  it  amiss  that  Ray 
should  seem  so  downhearted  and  be  so  uncompanion 
able.  Foster  felt  that  the  time  had  come  when,  in  the 
absence  of  Sandy's  own,  he  (Foster)  should  assume 
paternal  rights,  or  at  least  those  of  elder  brother,  and 
take  the  youngster  to  task.  Here  and  there  about  the 
big  ship  he  found,  in  knots  of  two  or  three,  silent  or 
conversing  in  low  tone,  comrades  of  the  commissioned 
list  or  of  the  ranks,  unwilling  to  seek  their  berths  so  long 
as  so  gorgeous  a  panorama  lasted.  These  were  ranged 
along  the  starboard  side,  where  best  they  could  study 


42  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

that  superb  sweep  of  shore  line,  of  light  and  shadow,  of 
slope  and  mountain,  of  curving  strand — white,  flashing  in 
the  moonbeams,  of  twinkling  villages  low-lying,  of  dis 
tant,  rock-ribbed  isles,  but  among  these  worshipers  there 
was  no  Ray. 

It  was  over  on  the  other — the  dark,  the  port — side,  and 
all  alone,  sprawled  in  a  steamer  chair  he  had  lugged  to 
the  upper  deck  and  the  shadow  of  the  big  boat,  that 
Foster  came  upon  the  lad.  His  field  glasses  were  in  his 
hand ;  his  eyes  fixed  dreamily  upon  the  dwindling,  dimin 
ishing  night  lights  of  the  westward  suburbs,  and  Foster 
hailed  brusquely.  It  was  time  to  jar  the  boy  out  of  his 
mooning : 

"  Hello,  Sandy !  Where  on  earth  have  you  been  all 
night?" 

"  Nowhere,"  was  the  short  reply. 

"  Where  on  sea  then,  if  you  will  be  captious  ?  " 

"  Oh,  admiring  scenery,"  and  Sandy  yawned  sug 
gestively. 

"  Scenery  is  all  on  t'other  side,  man !  Nothing  here 
but  ships  and  shore  lights." 

"  Well— that's  what  I'm— looking  at." 

Foster  turned  sulkily.  He  disliked  being  "  stood  off  " 
by  anybody,  especially  a  youngster.  Dimly  in  the  soft 
moonlight  the  sleeping  city  lay  outspread  before  him. 
Standing  on  the  rail,  grasping  a  stanchion,  he  could  see, 
save  where  the  charthouse  and  huge  funnel  interposed, 
the  entire  sweep  from  Posilipo  at  the  west  around  almost 


A    NIGHT    AT    NAPLES  43 

to  Sorrento.  Ray,  seated  under  the  shadow  of  the  long 
boat,  could  see  only  from  Posilipo  to  a  low-lying  cluster 
of  lights  almost  at  the  water's  edge.  That  then  was  the 
Piazza  Urnberto,  and  those  few  twinkling,  starlike 
sparkles  to  the  left,  dancing  so  merrily  on  the  inter 
vening  wave — those  were  from  some  still  open  casements 
at  the  Grand.  Then  Foster  saw  what  Sandy  Ray  was 
looking  for,  and  turned  and  left  him. 

At  dawn  they  were  weighing  anchor,  but  the  big  ship 
had  not  yet  swung  her  nose  to  the  west  when  Foster 
again  appeared  on  the  dripping  deck  and  again  found 
Ray  almost  at  the  same  spot.  Some  of  the  same  lights, 
a  very  few,  were  still  faintly  to  be  seen  to  the  west  of 
the  Piazza,  and  Ray's  signal  glasses  were  lifted  to  his 
eyes.  Aloft  the  sentinel  stars  were  paling,  their  night 
watch  ended.  Ashore,  along  the  quays  and  basin  and 
about  the  Dogana,  the  lantern  lights  told  of  the  stir 
of  coming  day  and  departing  shipping.  Beyond  the 
heavy  smoke  all  about  the  lone  and  threatening  moun 
tain,  the  skies  were  taking  on  a  rose  hue  of  their  own 
that  dulled  the  glow  of  the  sluggish  streams  rolling 
ever  down  those  scarred  and  desolate  slopes.  Near  by 
in  silvery  chime  ship  after  ship  announced  the  passing 
of  the  night  hours,  the  birth  of  the  infant  day,  and  a 
long,  light-girdled  shape,  floating  easily  close  at  hand 
on  the  swelling  tide,  slowly  changed  from  shadowy  black 
to  gray,  from  gray  to  violet,  and  finally — as  the  still 
invisible  sun  peered  long  leagues  away  beyond  the  Italian 


44  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

mountains,  beyond  the  Adriatic  wave,  above  the  dim 
y£gean  shore,  and  sent  his  flashing  signals  through  the 
upper  ether — from  cream  to  snowy  white,  there  lay  the 
Hohenzollern,  "  all  a  taunto  and  impatient  "  for  her  west 
ward  voyage  for  "  Gib,"  for  the  Azores,  for  home,  and 
they  of  the  bulkier,  heavier  transport  envied  possibly  the 
lithe  and  lissome  build  of  the  famous  pleasure  craft, 
once  the  pride  of  the  old  German  Lloyds.  She  might 
follow  in  the  run  past  Ischia  and  Sicily.  She  would  lead 
far  in  the  chase  for  Sandy  Hook. 

"  Been  up  all  night,  Sandy  ?  "  hailed  Foster  sharply, 
believing  it  high  time  to  break  in  upon  these  romantic 
moonings. 

"  No,"  said  the  young  soldier  slowly  "  I've  been — 
down." 

"  Poor  boy,"  thought  Foster,  as  he  turned  away.  "  He 
looks  it !  Poor,  nonsensical,  damn  little  fool !  " 

Yet  Foster  was  not  so  very  big,  so  very  wise,  so  very 
safe  and  sure.  He  had  yet  to  know  for  himself  much 
that  Ray  knew  now. 


CHAPTER  IV 
"SHE  is  COMING  HERE!" 

THE  valley  of  the  Minneconjou  was  looking  its 
loveliest  in  the  joyous  sunshine  of  mid-May. 
The  post  had  been  enlarged  to  meet  the  needs 
of  the  increasing  garrison.  A  colonel  of  infantry  had 
been  sent  to  assume  command,  there  being  now  two 
of  his  battalions  at  the  station  and  only  one  squadron, 
of  four  troops,  of  Ray's  old  regiment,  the  — th  Cav 
alry.  At  any  moment  our  friend  of  that  name  and 
many  years,  now  become  lieutenant-colonel  in  his  own 
right,  could  expect  orders  for  the  Philippines,  and  he 
was  ready  as  ever,  though  there  were  just  a  few  rea 
sons  why  he  hated  to  go.  It  had  been  decided  that 
Marion,  his  wife,  hitherto  his  almost  inseparable  com 
panion,  should  not  venture  to  Manila.  The  detail  at  most 
would  not  exceed  two  years.  It  might  cover  only  one, 
for  it  was  certain  that,  with  the  coming  enlargement  of 
the  army,  Ray  would  soon  be  promoted  to  the  full  rank 
of  colonel,  and  that  would  probably  bring  him  home 
again,  for,  as  things  had  been  going  in  Samar  and  Min 
danao,  colonels  were  in  that  sort  of  campaigning  about 
as  useful  as  most  of  them  in  church.  Keen  young  cap 
tains  and  lieutenants  were  in  demand.  Field  officers,  so- 

45 


46  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

called,  were  of  less  account  in  the  field  than  in  fortified 
places.  Occasionally  a  sizable  column — a  major's  com 
mand  perhaps — would  push  forth  into  the  jungle,  where 
it  speedily  had  to  split  up  into  small  detachments,  probing 
in  single  file,  and  in  pursuit  of  scattering  bands  of 
ladrones  or  banditti,  the  bamboo  or  the  mountain  trail. 
Moreover,  much  of  the  vim  and  spirit  had  been  taken 
out  of  the  soldiery,  officers  and  men,  old  and  young,  by 
the  fate  of  the  more  daring  and  energetic  of  their  num 
ber,  who  had  fallen  victims,  not  to  lance  or  bullet  of 
lurking  foe  at  the  front,  but  rather  "  the  slings  and 
arrows  of  outrageous  fortune  "  at  the  rear.  A  powerful 
party  at  home  had  shown  far  more  concern  over  the 
alleged  ill-treatment  of  the  few  insurgent  bands  than  their 
actual  treachery  to  our  men-at-arms.  Officers  and  men 
listened  in  silence  to  the  public  rebukes  and  sentences 
administered  to  the  leaders  who  had  shed  their  gloves 
and  fought  the  insurrecto  with  weapons  far  more  effec 
tive,  yet  infinitely  less  deadly,  than  fire  and  steel.  Offi 
cers  and  men  in  silence  set  forth  upon  their  next  ordered 
expedition,  and  in  silence  returned  and  announced  the 
result — practically  nothing.  Elusive  and  flitting  little 
bands  of  native  warriors,  vanishing  like  shadows  among 
the  thickets,  were  not  to  be  trapped  by  the  methods  pre 
scribed  for  dealing  with  an  army  arrayed  in  front  of 
Washington.  "  Don't  come  unless  you  have  to,"  wrote 
Major  Blake  from  the  hospital  at  Manila  to  Billy  Ray  at 
Minneconjou,  "  The  courts-martial  of  Hill  and  Dale 


"SHE    IS    COMING    HERE!"  47 

and  Langham  have  taken  the  heart  out  of  our  fellows. 
The  young  officers  say  they  dare  not  go  out  for  fear  they 
might  do  some  damage  somewhere." 

So  Ray,  who  had  fought  Indians  all  over  the  West 
for  many  a  year — sometimes,  it  is  true,  coming  in  for  a 
Puritanical  scorching  from  press  and  pulpit  in  far  New 
England,  where,  two  hundred  years  ago,  with  prayerful 
zest  our  forefathers  burned  witches  at  the  stake  and  put 
Pequots  to  the  sword — now  found  himself  shrinking 
from  the  task  of  tackling  savages  with  gloves  who 
treated  men  without  mercy.  Marion,  as  has  been  said, 
was  not  to  accompany  him  to  the  Islands  and  be  near  to 
counsel  and  to  comfort.  She  was  not  too  well  now,  and 
had  had  many  an  anxiety.  Billy,  Junior,  when  he  should 
have  been  studying  for  West  Point,  had  been  spooning 
over  a  pretty  girl  not  yet  in  long  dresses,  and  Sandy,  their 
firstborn,  the  soldier  boy,  had  come  home  from  the 
Islands  wounded  in  body  and  soul.  The  scar  of  the  bullet 
would  not  be  long  healing,  but  the  sting  of  that  other 
shock  and  sorrow,  who  could  say  what  that  might  yet  im 
port  ?  for  Sandy  would  not  speak  of  it.  Sandy  would  not 
so  much  as  refer  to  his  brief  dream  of  bliss  and  the  girl 
that  inspired  it.  Sandy  had  come  to  them  at  Minne- 
conjou  to  recuperate,  detached  from  his  own  regiment 
"  for  such  light  duty  as  he  might  be  able  to  perform " 
with  his  father's  squadron  of  the  old  — th.  Sandy  was 
a  sad  and  silent  man.  "  Let  him  alone  to  beat  it  out 
in  time,"  said  the  soldier-father.  "  It  is  the  only  way." 


48  A    SOLDIER'S   TRIAL 

But  Marion's  mother  heart  yearned  over  her  boy  and  his 
wordless  sorrowing.  He  must  have  loved  that  beautiful 
but  unprincipled  creature  with  all  his  fervent  young  heart. 
Colonel  Stone,  who  was  now  in  command  at  Minne- 
conjou,  had  known  the  Rays  for  years  and  was  firmly 
their  friend.  Without  so  much  as  a  hint  from  any 
source,  he  had  divined  that  Sandy's  low  spirits  were  not 
the  result  of  that  bullet  wound.  He  could  not  but  note 
the  solicitude  with  which  his  cavalry  friend  and  ofttime 
fellow-campaigner  regarded  the  silent  young  soldier,  his 
eldest  son.  Colonel  Stone  had  suggested  at  first  that 
Sandy  be  put  at  surveying  the  reservation — something 
to  keep  him  long  hours  each  day  in  the  open  air.  But 
barely  six  months  had  elapsed  since  the  Engineers,  under 
orders  from  department  headquarters,  had  completed 
with  chain,  rod  and  transit  thorough  plotting  of  the  six 
mile  square,  to  the  end  that  a  very  finely  finished  map  was 
received  almost  at  the  time  the  colonel  first  broached  the 
subject.  Sandy  could  not  yet  take  part  in  the  sharp 
mounted  drills  that  were  his  father's  delight.  Something 
had  to  be  done  to  give  him  measurably  congenial  occupa 
tion.  He  could  not  play  tennis,  croquet  or  billiards.  He 
would  not  play  poker  or  find  solace  in  Scotch  highballs. 
He  might  have  derived  some  comfort  from  reading  and 
study,  but  Priscilla  was  beset  with  desire  to  prescribe 
his  reading  and  guide  his  studies,  for  Priscilla,  being 
several  years  his  senior  in  age  and  many  volumes  his 
superior  in  reading,  was  ever  mindful  of  the  mission 


"SHE    IS    COMING    HERE!"  49 

which  no  conscientious  woman  should  be  without. 
Priscilla  had  thought  to  start  a  school  for  the  children 
of  the  garrison,  but  found  that  many  of  the  elders  were 
driven  every  day  to  town  and  its  high  school,  while  most 
of  the  mites  were  corraled  each  morning  in  the  basement 
of  the  post  chapel,  pupils  of  a  sergeant  schoolmaster 
whose  success  had  been  quite  remarkable,  so  much  so 
that  parents  were  reluctant — and  their  progeny  rebel 
lious — when  other  and  more  modern  methods,  Priscilla's, 
were  suggested.  It  must  be  owned  that  the  little  ones 
from  the  start  found  Miss  Sanford  unsympathetic,  if  not 
impossible.  Children  love  being  catechized  as  little  as 
do  their  elders,  and  they  resented  it  that  this  somewhat 
prim,  yet  by  no  means  unprepossessing,  spinster  should 
consider  it  her  duty  amf  her  privilege  to  cross-question 
them  as  to  their  infantile  responsibilities  and,  all  unin 
vited,  to  undertake  supervision  of  their  noisy  sports. 
Finding  no  opening  for  a  day  school,  Miss  Sanford  had 
sought  to  interest  the  weans  in  an  afternoon  reading 
class.  The  first  day  or  two  the  major's  spacious  quar 
ters  were  well  filled,  so  were  the  children  with  alluring 
goodies  they  could  thoroughly  appreciate.  But  when 
sermons  began  to  take  the  place  of  sandwiches,  and  moral 
admonitions  and  questionings  were  administered  in  lieu 
of  lemonade  and  lady-fingers,  Miss  Sanford's  kinder 
garten  dissolved  in  air  and  the  would-be  gentle  monitress 
in  disappointed  tears.  Uncle  Will  had  whimsically 
Striven  to  console  her  with  the  promise  of  better  luck 


50  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

when  school  stopped  in  June,  but  Aunt  Marion  had 
smilingly  though  silently  shaken  her  head.  She  knew 
Priscilla's  propensities  of  old.  She  had  convictions,  said 
Aunt  Marion,  and  theories  as  to  how  children  should 
be  taught  to  see  the  serious  side  of  life.  Priscilla  was 
suffering  from  an  accumulation  of  pent-up  zeal  and 
enthusiasm  that  was  yet  to  find  an  outlet. 

Then  one  day  the  outlet  came. 

Lieutenant  Parker,  "  Exchange  officer,"  so-called,  was 
suddenly  ordered  to  duty  at  West  Point,  and  Colonel 
Stone  asked  Sandy  Ray  if  he  would  take  his  place. 
"  Strictly  speaking,"  said  he,  "  I  should  name  one  of  my 
own  officers,  but  I  have  other  work  for  all  of  them,  and 
lots  of  it.  You  have  really  very  little  else  just  now  that 
you  can  do,  except,  perhaps,  go  to  stables." 

Now,  if  there  was  one  institution  more  than  another  at 
Minneconjou  against  which  Priscilla  Sanford  had  set  her 
seal,  it  was  the  post  Exchange.  In  all  her  months  of 
residence  under  Uncle  Will's,  the  major's,  roof,  never 
once  had  the  others  there  sheltered  forgotten  the  day  of 
her  first  acquaintance  with  the  subject.  Sandy  was  still 
beyond  seas,  but  Billy,  Junior,  was  of  the  household 
when,  just  as  they  took  their  place  at  table  for  luncheon, 
the  husband  and  father  spoke: 

"  Maidie  wife,  they  have  some  capital  cider  at  the  Can 
teen  and  I  ordered  some  sent  over." 

Miss  Sanford  looked  up  inquiringly  over  her  poised 
spoonful  of  soup. 


"SHE    IS    COMING    HERE!"  51 

"  The— Canteen?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes.  The  Post  Exchange,  it  is  called  officially.  It's 
the  post  shop,  restaurant,  club,  amusement  hall,  etc.," 
answered  the  head  of  the  house,  while  Marion,  his  wife, 
glanced  just  a  trifle  nervously  at  her  niece. 

"  But  why— Canteen?  It  is  n't,  is  it,  a— bar?"  And 
Miss  Sanford's  tone  betrayed  the  depth  of  her  disappro 
bation  of  the  name. 

"  Yes,  and  no,"  said  Uncle  Will  pleasantly,  his  dark 
eyes  twinkling  under  their  heavy  brows  and  lashes.  He 
rather  liked  to  have  'Cilia  mount  her  successive  hobbies, 
and  thought  it  better,  as  a  rule,  to  let  her  air  her  theories 
first  in  the  sanctity  of  the  family  circle.  "  After  experi 
menting  a  hundred  years  or  so  we  found  it  wiser  to  pre 
scribe  the  drinks  as  well  as  the  meats  of  our  men,  and 
to  provide  a  place  for  them  at  home  where  they  can  have 
rational  amusement  and  refreshment,  rather  than  send 
them  out  into  the  world  where  they  get  the  worst  of 
everything." 

"  But,  uncle,  do  you  mean  you  let — you  encourage — 
these  young  soldiers  to — drink?"  And  the  slender  gold 
chain  of  Miss  Sanford's  intellectual  pince  nez  began  to 
quiver,  as  did  the  lady's  sensitive  nostrils. 

"Encourage?  No!  Let?  Yes,  so  long  as  it  is  noth 
ing  but  sound  beer  or  light  wine — things  we  buy  for 
them  from  the  most  reliable  dealers  and  provide  them 
practically  at  cost.  You  see  they  have  their  own  club- 
room,  and  billiards,  checkers,  chess,  dominoes,  coffee, 


52  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

cake  and  sandwiches.  It  keeps  them  here.  It  helps  and 
contents  them.  They  can't  drink  more  than  is  good  for 
them." 

"  Is  it  good  for  them  that  they  should  drink— at  all?  " 
demanded  Priscilla. 

"  Possibly  not.  The  ascetic  in  everything  would  be, 
physically  perhaps,  the  ideal  soldier.  But  precious  few 
soldiers  are  ascetics,  though  many  are  total  abstainers." 

"  Then  why  not  all,  since  it  is  best  for  so  many  ?  " 

"  Because,  'Cilia,  a  large  number  refuse  to  be  ab 
stainers,  and  we  can't  make  them.  They  won't  enlist  or 
serve  if  such  conditions  are  imposed.  If  forbidden  to 
use  mild  and  carefully  selected  stimulant  here  they  will 
go  elsewhere  and  get  the  vilest  the  frontier  can  furnish, 
to  the  ruin  of  their  stomachs,  reputation  and  moral  na 
ture.  We  teach  temperance — not  intolerance." 

But  Priscilla  had  been  reared  in  the  shadow  of 
the  stanch  old  Calvanistic  church  and  the  strictest  of 
schools. 

"  I — cannot  see  how  you  dare  place  such  temptation 
in  their  way,"  said  she.  "  You  thereby  take  their  souls 

in  the  hollow  of  your  hand  and  become  responsible 

Oh !  " — with  a  shudder  of  genuine  distress  and  repug 
nance — "  I  knew — I  had  heard — there  was  drinking ;  but 
I  never  supposed  it  was  countenanced,  encouraged  by — 
by  those  who  ought  to  be  their  shield  against  such  temp 
tation  and  trouble."  And  here  Priscilla's  words  were 
oddly  reminiscent  of  the  editorial  columns  of  the  Banner 


"SHE    IS    COMING    HERE!'*  53 

of  Light  and  certain  other  most  excellent  organs  of  the 
Prohibition  element. 

"  We  do  it  to  keep  them  from  vastly  worse  temptation 
and  trouble,  Priscilla,"  said  the  veteran  soldier  kindly, 
and  signaling  Marion  not  to  interpose.  "  You  are  right, 
dear,  in  the  abstract,  but  we  have  to  deal  with  men  as 
we  find  them.  We  would  be  glad  indeed  of  ideals,  but 
the  ideal  does  n't,  as  a  rule,  enlist." 

"  The  Bible  teaches  us  it  stingeth  like  an  adder,"  said 
Priscilla  solemnly,  with  suggestive  glance  at  Billy, 
Junior,  whom  she  but  yesterday  had  rebuked  for  sipping 
claret  at  the  colonel's  dinner. 

"  The  Bible  also  tells  us  Who  turned  water  into  wine 
at  a  certain  marriage  feast,"  said  Uncle  Will,  his  mus 
tache  twitching. 

Whereat  Priscilla  flushed ;  the  tears  started  to  her  eyes ; 
she  arose  and  left  the  table,  her  soup  unfinished.  It  was 
one  thing  to  quote  the  Scriptures  in  support  of  her  views ; 
it  was  quite  another  to  array  them  on  the  other  side. 
When  Aunt  Marion  went  to  Priscilla's  room  a  little  later, 
with  a  tray  of  tea  and  comfits  and  a  word  of  gentle  ex 
postulation,  she  found  her  niece  in  anything  but  melting 
mood.  To  Priscilla's  mind  such  argument  as  Uncle 
Will's  was  impious.  To  Aunt  Marion's  suggestion  that 
at  least  it  was  from  like  authority  with  her  own,  Pris 
cilla  could  find  no  better  reply  than  "  That's  different." 

Down  in  her  heart  of  hearts  Priscilla  thought  it  a 
grave  mistake  on  part  of  somebody  that  the  episode  of 


54  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

the  marriage  of  Cana  of  Galilee  had  any  place  in  Holy 
Writ.  Indeed  it  may  be  hazarded  that,  long  schooled  by 
the  Banner  and  the  eloquent  lessons  of  her  favorite 
preachers,  Priscilla  could  have  listened  with  becoming 
modesty,  but  no  surprise,  had  it  been  suggested  that  she 
undertake  the  preparation  of  an  expurgated  edition  of  the 
Word. 

At  the  date  of  this  initial  clash  Uncle  Will  was  still 
commanding  the  post.  Stone,  with  the  Sixty-first,  came 
later.  Priscilla,  finding  her  uncle  ever  smilingly  tolerant 
of  her  views,  but  never  shaken  in  his  own,  had  first  es 
sayed  an  inspection  of  the  Canteen — she  would  not  call 
it  the  Exchange — and  then  had  descended  upon  the 
chaplain — a  gentle  divine,  gifted  with  much  faith  but 
little  force,  a  kindly,  sweet-tempered  cleric  ever  ready  to 
follow  if  never  to  lead  in  good  work  that  demanded  per 
sonal  push  and  energy.  Priscilla  had  spent  sleepless 
hours  in  thought  over  the  situation.  She  could  not 
abolish  the  Canteen  since  the  law  ("The  law  and  the 
prophets,"  said  Uncle  Will,  though  Priscilla  would  not 
hear)  sustained  it.  She  could,  she  reasoned,  conduct  a 
rival  establishment  that  should  wean  the  soldier  from 
the  false  faith  to  the  true,  and  to  this  end  she  sought  the 
aid  of  the  cassock. 

Uncle  Will  had  taken  her,  at  her  request,  to  see  the 
objectionable  institution,  and  she  had  peered  curiously 
about  the  cozy  interior.  At  sight  of  their  much  honored 
squadron  leader,  the  few  troopers  at  the  tables,  busy 


"SHE    IS    COMING    HERE!"  55 

with  checkers,  dominoes  or  billiards,  had  sprung  to  at 
tention,  facing  him  and  the  grave-eyed  lady  by  his  side, 
and  there  stood  in  soldierly  respect.  Ray  smilingly 
acknowledged  their  homage,  bade  them  go  on  with  their 
games;  he  merely  wished  his  niece  from  the  East  "to 
see  how  we  manage  to  live  in  the  West."  Then  he 
showed  her  the  bookshelves  and  the  reading  room  with 
its  illustrated  weeklies  and  magazines,  the  well-furnished 
writing  tables  whereat  certain  young  soldiers  were  work 
ing  at  their  letters  home;  the  refreshment  counter,  with 
its  appetizing  little  stack  of  sandwiches  and  polished  urn 
of  steaming  coffee,  and  all  this  Priscilla  saw  without 
sign  of  surrender.  What  she  looked  for  she  did  not 
find — symptoms  of  the  inevitable  intoxication  and  de 
bauchery  to  be  expected  wherever  liquor  was  sold  or 
used.  Some  of  the  men  had  half-emptied  beer  glasses 
at  their  elbow.  Two  German  non-commissioned  officers 
were  sipping  appreciatively  the  wine  of  their  native 
Rhineland  as  they  chatted  in  quiet  comfort  over  their 
little  table  at  the  window.  A  veteran  sergeant  stepped 
forward  and  begged  the  honor  of  tendering  the  colonel 
and  the  lady  a  glass  of  their  wine,  and  again  every  man 
was  on  his  feet  as  Ray  drank  to  their  health,  and  Pris 
cilla  thanked  their  entertainers  and  said  she  would  be 
glad  of  a  little  coffee — she  never  used  wine.  She  was 
silent  as  she  came  away — all  was  so  orderly,  so  cheery; 
the  men  seemed  so  content  with  their  surroundings,  so 
pleased  that  "  the  colonel  "  (never  did  they  forget  his 


56  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

volunteer  title)  should  come  to  see  them.  She  owned 
that — yes — they  looked  very — decent  now,  but — but,  it 
was  only  the  first  step ;  it  was  what  it  all  led  to,  said  she, 
that  made  it  so  dangerous,  so  dreadful !  Indeed,  the 
mere  fact  that  all  was  so  well  ordered  made  it,  pre 
sumably,  to  Priscilla's  mind,  all  the  more  alluring  and 
terrible.  It  was  the  devil's  way  always,  she  had  been 
taught — imperceptible,  inviting,  insidious.  Priscilla 
prayed  long  that  night  and  pondered.  She  had  almost 
decided  on  a  campaign  of  conquest  and  overthrow,  when 
the  new  commander  came,  and  in  Cblonel  Stone  she 
found  an  obstacle  quite  as  firm  as  Uncle  Will — and  far 
less  tolerant. 

Meantime,  however,  Priscilla  had  organized  her  "  Sol 
diers'  Advancement  Association " ;  had  started  in  a 
vacant  set  of  quarters  a  rival  to  the  Canteen,  where  even 
better  coffee  and  sandwiches  could  be  had  and  much  more 
improving  conversation,  but  no  beer,  and  Priscilla  was 
presently  in  the  seventh  heaven;  so  many  soldiers 
came  she  had  to  send  for  more  seats  and  more  supplies. 
Every  evening  after  dinner,  putting  behind  her  the  un 
worthy,  if  worldly,  impulse  to  go  and  join  in  the  music 
or  the  dance,  Priscilla  met  her  martial  friends  and  pupils, 
learned  their  soldier  names,  something  of  their  history 
and  much  of  their  needs.  The  chaplain  at  first  was  quite 
assiduous  in  his  attendance,  but  the  chaplain,  she  speedily 
decided,  was  slow,  prosy,  unconvincing.  He  did  not 
seem  to  stir  them  as  they  should  be  stirred,  and  when  one 


"SHE    IS    COMING    HERE!"  57 

night  the  kindly  old  gentleman  failed  to  come,  and  his 
goodwife  sent  word  she  feared  her  husband  had  caught 
a  heavy  cold,  Priscilla  took  the  Word,  as  the  French 
would  say;  read  the  chapter  of  her  choice;  expounded 
vehemently  after  the  manner  of  her  favorite  exhorters, 
and  came  home  radiant.  No  less  than  six  of  the  men 
had  come  to  her  to  thank  her  for  her  soul-stirring  words, 
and  to  say  that  if  they  had  had  such  teaching  as  that  in 
their  past  they  would  never  have  brought  sorrow  to  a 
mother's  heart,  as  some  of  them  feared  they  had.  Uncle 
Will's  eyebrows  went  up  significantly  when  Priscilla 
named  her  converts,  and  once  or  twice,  as  he  sat  writing 
to  Blake  that  night  in  his  little  den,  sounds  as  of  irre 
pressible  chuckling  came  from  that  sanctum,  and  Marion 
slipped  in  to  say  a  word  of  caution.  Priscilla,  however, 
at  last  had  found  her  opportunity  and  could  not  be 
laughed  out  of  it.  The  chaplain  was  warned,  he  said,  that 
exposure  to  the  wintry  night  air  was  hazardous,  and  he 
was  reluctantly  compelled  to  withdraw,  and  Priscilla,  by 
no  means  reluctantly,  to  part  with  him.  She  was  in 
desperate  earnest  and  in  the  full  tide  of  apparent  suc 
cess,  with  all  Minneconjou  watching  with  absorbed  if 
mischievous  interest.  Priscilla's  mourners'  bench,  it  must 
be  owned,  was  graced  by  the  presence  of  one  or  two 
veteran  troopers,  the  mention  of  whose  names  was 
enough  to  start  the  risibilities  of  that  godless  array,  "  the 
Mess."  There  was  Shaughnessy,  who  had  served  six 
enlistments  and  never  kept  the  chevrons  six  months  at  a 


58  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

time.  There  was  Kelly,  the  "  champeen  thrumpether," 
who  could  blow  "  Taps  "  that  would  bring  tears  to  your 
eyes  one  day  and  maledictions  on  his  head  the  next. 
There  was  Costigan,  who  had  been  "  bobtailed  "  out  of 
two  of  the  best  regiments  of  infantry  of  the  service, 
and  only  "  taken  on  "  in  Ray's  old  troop  by  special  per 
mission,  because  of  his  undeniable  valor  in  Indian  cam 
paign  and  the  fact  that  when  he  let  whisky  alone  there 
was  not  a  neater,  nattier  soldier,  Horse,  Foot  or  Dragoon, 
to  be  found  in  the  field.  Priscilla  had  indeed  gathered 
in  some  of  the  reprobates,  and  sought  to  reach  more. 
She  begged  that,  in  accordance  with  their  plaintive  re 
quest,  the  inmates  of  the  guard-house,  immortal  "  Com 
pany  Q,"  might  be  allowed  the  benefit  and  privileges  of 
the  Association.  Had  not  He  said  He  came  not  to  call 
the  just  but  the  sinners  to  repentance?  and,  as  Uncle 
Will  whimsically  remarked,  "  If  what  Priscilla  wants  are 
sinners — she's  got  'em." 

And  this  was  the  state  of  things  when  Stone  arrived; 
took  command,  reinforced  the  garrison  with  eight  stout 
companies  and  band  of  the  Sixty-first,  and  the  guard 
house  with  a  scare  of  military  malefactors  who,  hearing 
of  Miss  Sanford's  Soldiers'  Advancement  Association, 
begged  leave  to  partake  of  its  blessings,  including  the 
coffee  and  sandwiches.  Then  Stone  suddenly  "  tumbled 
to  the  scheme,"  as  Billy,  Junior,  a  fierce  skeptic  from  the 
start,  described  it.  Then  Stone  himself  attended  a  meet 
ing,  to  the  obvious  embarrassment  of  the  congregation, 


"SHE    IS    COMING    HERE!"  59 

though  Priscilla  beamed  upon  him  in  the  sudden  belief 
that  here  indeed  was  a  heart  worth  the  moving.  What 
Stone  saw  was  quite  enough  to  convince  him  of  the 
utter  absurdity  of  permitting  the  further  attendance  of, 
at  least,  the  guard-house  contingent,  but  he  would  not 
wound  Priscilla  or,  without  abundant  reason,  disturb  the 
edifice  builded  under  Ray's  administration.  The  Associa 
tion  might  even  have  lived  and  thrived  another  week  on 
Priscilla's  ministrations — and  at  Ray's  expense — for 
daily  coffee  and  sandwiches  for  all  comers,  forty  odd,  at 
least,  was  proving  costly.  It  was  "  Company  Q  "  itself 
that  broke  it  up.  The  privilege  and  the  darkness  com 
bined  enabled  certain  of  its  unhallowed  spirits  to  smug 
gle  whisky  into  the  prison  room,  and,  thus  stimulated, 
a  gifted  ex-professional  of  the  "  dramatic  line  "  set  up  a 
wonderfully  if  wickedly  witty  burlesque  of  the  evening's 
lecture,  to  the  irrepressible,  and  presently  uproarious, 
mirth  of  his  fellow- jailbirds.  It  was  just  what  Stone  was 
expecting,  and  so  far  from  ordering  it  stopped,  he  sent 
for  Ray  and  bade  him  listen.  Then  the  post  and  the 
squadron  commander  shook  hands  in  silence.  "  You  see 
for  yourself,"  said  Stone.  "  I,  too,  have  been  expecting 
it,"  said  Ray.  Then  the  guard  was  sent  in. ,  The  impious 
revel  was  suddenly  and  summarily  squelched.  Then  Ray 
gently  told  Priscilla  the  sinners  could  come  no  more,  but 
mercifully  would  not  tell  her  much,  at  least,  that  he  had 
heard.  So  the  Soldiers'  Advancement  Association  retro 
graded  in  numbers  to  less  than  half,  and  then,  as  others 


60  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

not  at  the  moment  under  guard  took  alarm,  to  less  than  a 
dozen.  But  Priscilla  wrapped  herself  up  in  the  nine  that 
were  left,  and,  as  all  barrack  room  was  now  needed,  for 
these  they  fitted  up  a  little  apartment  in  the  basement 
of  the  major's  quarters,  and  then  came  Sandy  Ray,  as 
has  been  said,  and  spring  was  turning  to  summer,  and 
Priscilla's  band  of  stalwarts  had  been  reduced  to  six, 
and  of  these  six  the  apple  of  her  spiritual  eye  was  Blenke. 
One  of  the  recruits,  regimental  and  bibli-classical,  was 
Blenke,  but  already  a  marked  man.  Small  of  stature, 
lithe,  slender  and  sinewy,  with  dainty  little  hands  and 
feet,  with  pallid  face  and  regular  features  and  great  big, 
mournful  brown  eyes  that  looked  pleadingly  into  those 
of  his  superiors,  Blenke  wore  the  uniform  of  a  private 
with  the  ease  and  grace  and  care  of  a  dandy  subaltern. 
Blenke's  gloves  and  shoes  could  not  be  furnished  by  the 
quartermaster's  department;  they  did  not  deal  in  such 
small  sizes ;  but  Blenke  brought  with  him  all  he  could 
need  of  such  items  for  months  to  come.  Blenke  was  a 
silent  fellow  in  barracks.  Blenke  never  whistled  or 
sang.  Blenke  rarely  spoke  and  never  smiled.  It  was 
not  that  Blenke's  face  was  set  in  gloom,  but  an  air  of 
gentle  melancholy  hung  ever  about  him.  He  made  no 
intimates,  sought  no  confidences  and  gave  none  among 
the  men.  Whatever  he  was  put  to  do  he  did  surprisingly 
well.  Corporal  Donovan,  detailed  to  drill  him  when  he, 
with  the  rest  of  the  little  party,  arrived,  informed  the 
first  sergeant  that  "  that  young  feller  knew  more  settin'- 


"SHE    IS    COMING    HERE!"  61 

up  drill  than  any  non-com  at  the  post."  So  it  proved 
also  with  the  manual  of  arms.  Blenke  was  an  expert. 
When  put  into  a  squad  for  aiming  and  position  drill, 
Blenke  had  nothing  to  learn,  and  his  shooting  and  gallery 
practice  was  on  a  par  with  the  best.  They  sent  him  out 
to  the  rifle  range  west  of  the  post  and  there  he  "  quali 
fied  "  at  known  distance  and  excelled  at  the  silhouettes, 
and  still  he  declared  he  had  never  before  "  taken  a 
blanket"  He  learned  his  drill  and  shooting  with  the 
militia,  he  said ;  gave  "  clerk "  as  his  occupation  and 
wrote  a  beautiful  hand,  though  his  spelling  at  times 
might  be  criticised.  Blenke  had  a  watch,  card-case, 
shirts,  shoes  and  underwear  that  told  of  better  days. 
Blenke,  apparently,  had  no  vices.  He  neither  drank, 
smoked,  chewed,  gambled  nor,  unless  closely  pressed  as 
to  his  past,  was  he  believed  to  lie.  Blenke  looked  about 
him  a  bit  before  going  either  to  church  or  town.  Then 
Blenke  began  appearing  regularly  at  chapel  service,  and 
then,  modestly,  sought  permission  to  enter  Miss  Sanford's 
Soldiers'  Advancement  Association,  where  speedily  he 
attracted  the  especial  notice  of  that  devoted  and  devo 
tional  young  woman.  Then  Blenke  offered  his  services 
as  writer,  copyist,  etc.,  and  Priscilla,  being  much  occu 
pied,  gladly  installed  him  at  a  desk  whereat  he  spent  much 
time  when  not  elsewhere  on  duty,  and  all  the  while,  neat, 
handy,  silent,  unobtrusive,  yet  seeing  everything  with 
those  deep,  mournful,  watchful  eyes,  Blenke  found 
means  to  make  himself  more  and  more  useful,  and  pres- 


62  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

ently  to  communicate  the  fact  that  though  his  present  lot 
was  humble  there  had  been  "  advantages  "  in  the  past, 
there  were  ambitions  for  the  future.  To  begin  with, 
he  wished  to  transfer  into  the  cavalry.  He  knew  little, 
he  said,  of  the  relative  merits  of  those  arms  before  en 
listing.  He  had  seen  much  since,  he  said,  to  convince 
him  that  for  a  young  man  of  spirit  the  cavalry  offered 
opportunities  not  to  be  looked  for  in  the  infantry.  This, 
he  judged,  would  not  displease  the  squadron  commander, 
whose  influence  through  Miss  Sanford  he  earnestly 
sought,  and  so  it  resulted  that  Blenke,  little  by  little,  was 
far  more  frequently  to  be  found  about  the  major's  quar 
ters  than  his  own. 

Ray  did  not  like  it.  Neither  did  Blenke's  captain,  yet 
neither  wished  to  throw  cold  water  on  Pris<:illa's  efforts, 
and  really  nothing  could  be  less  obtrusive  or  more  pre- 
;cise  and  soldierly  than  Blenke.  He  never  presumed  to 
speak  except  in  answer  to  questions.  He  was  scrupulous 
in  dress,  bearing,  conduct  and  military  courtesy.  His 
salute  was  precision  itself.  His  captain  really  wished  to 
make  him  a  corporal,  but  a  veteran  first  sergeant  re 
spectfully  protested.  "  The  men  would  n't  stand  for  it, 
sir,  and  him  not  two  months  in  the  company."  Sandy 
Ray,  who  came  home  in  mood  to  carp  at  anything,  liked 
it  least  of  all  that  he  should  be  forever  encountering 
Blenke  about  the  lower  floor  or  around  the  walks  and 
quarters.  But  Priscilla  was  forever  talking  of  Blenke's 
helpfulness,  his  piety,  high  character,  and  his  modest 


"SHE    IS    COMING    HERE!"  63 

hopes.  Blenke  was  beginning  to  talk  with  her  about 
studying  for  a  commission.  Blenke  was  beginning  to  be 
disliked  among  the  men  because  he  ignored  them  so. 

Then  one  day  came  the  expected.  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Ray,  — th  Cavalry,  was  ordered  to  proceed  at  once  to 
San  Francisco,  and  thence  by  transport  to  Manila.  Then 
came  tidings  of  deaths  in  the  Islands,  and  retirements 
at  home,  and,  six  months  sooner  than  he  had  hoped  for 
such  a  thing,  Oswald  Dwight  saw  the  gold  leaves  of  a 
major  dangling  before  his  mental  vision,  and  the  night 
before  Colonel  Ray  was  to  bid  his  loved  ones  good-by 
and  take  train  for  the  coa-st,  and  he  and  Marion,  arm 
in  arm,  were  coming  home  from  some  parting  calls,  they 
saw  Blenke  standing  at  their  gate,  a  telegraphic  message 
in  his  hand ;  Priscilla  and  Billy,  Junior,  following,  closed 
upon  the  elders  as  Ray  tore  open  the  envelope.  Blenke, 
having  delivered  it,  stood  scrupulously  at  attention  just 
beyond  the  gate,  gazing  with  his  mournful  eyes  straight 
out  at  the  flagstaff  in  the  middle  of  the  parade.  Ray 
read,  turned  a  bit  pale,  and  glanced  hurriedly  about  him 
as  though  in  search  of  someone.  Sandy  was  not  in 
sight.  He  was  busy  with  the  affairs  of  the  Canteen. 

"  What  is  it,  Will  ? "  asked  Marion  anxiously,  her 
gloved  hand  trembling  a  bit  upon  his  arm. 

"  Of  all  things — queer,"  said  Ray.  "  Dwight  gets  my 
squadron,  and — she's  coming  with  him." 

Then  unaccountably  Private  Blenke's  forage-cap,  al 
ways  worn  well  forward,  tilted  off  and  fell  at  his  feet. 


CHAPTER  V 

PREMONITORY     SYMPTOMS 

COLONEL  RAY  was  no  coward,  but  it  must  be 
owned  that  he  was  glad  to  be  well  away  from 
Minneconjou  before  the  coming  of  the  Dwights. 
What  troubled  him  most  was,  not  how  Sandy,  his  eldest 
boy,  but  how  Marion,  his  beloved  wife,  might  suffer. 
Never  to  either  father  or  mother  had  the  young  officer 
spoken  the  name  of  the  second  Mrs.  Dwight.  Never 
since  his  coming  to  Minneconjou  had  he  referred  to 
his  infatuation  of  the  previous  year,  nor  had  he  even 
remotely  mentioned  the  meeting  at  Naples.  They  knew 
of  it,  of  course.  There  were  so  many  aboard  the  trans 
port  who  had  heard  all  there  was  to  hear  about  it,  and 
some  of  these  many  could  not  be  expected  to  keep  it  to 
themselves.  Sandy,  indeed,  reached  the  post  only  a  day 
or  two  in  advance  of  this  interesting  piece  of  news. 
Marion  heard  it  before  her  husband  and  refrained  from 
telling  him,  in  hopes  that  Sandy  himself  would  open  his 
heart  and  tell  her  all  there  was  to  be  told ;  but  presently 
it  dawned  upon  her  that  the  boy  shrank  from  the  very 
mention  of  "  that  woman's  "  name — then  that  Will,  too, 
had  heard  the  story,  and  not  from  Sandy,  and  then  that 
each  feared  to  tell  the  other.  Then  as  of  old,  she  nestled 
into  her  husband's  arms,  and  there,  in  her  refuge,  said : 


PREMONITORY    SYMPTOMS  65 

"  After  all,  Will,  is  n't  it  better  he  should  have  seen  her 
and — had  done  with  it  ?  " 

"  If  only  he  has  done  with  it,"  thought  the  colonel, 
as  he  watched  the  young  soldier  going  doggedly  about 
his  duties.  "  If  only  he  has  done  with  it !  "  he  thought 
again,  when  he  saw  the  red  burning  on  the  young  fel 
low's  cheek  that  told  he  knew  at  last  of  the  impending 
arrival.  But  the  boy  had  shown  splendid  nerve  and  grit 
in  that  vital  matter  of  the  gradual  repayment  of  the 
moneys  lost  through  his*  neglect  at  the  Presidio  in  '98. 
He  had  shown  such  manliness  in  abjuring  wine  after 
that  one  almost  excusable  lapse  so  long  ago.  A  boy 
who  could  keep  himself  so  thoroughly  in  hand,  said  the 
colonel,  in  two  cardinal  points,  can  be  counted  on  to 
keep  his  head  even  when  he  may  have  lost  his  heart. 
No.  Ray  had  trusted  Sandy  thoroughly  in  the  past,  and 
Sandy  had  thoroughly  justified  it.  Ray  meant  as  thor 
oughly  to  trust  now  to  the  manfulness  and  honor  of  his 
son.  Pride,  too,  would  help  the  lad  even  were  "  that 
woman  "  to  seek  to  lure  him  again. 

But  it  was  hard  to  leave  Marion  to  meet  the  Dwights. 
In  all  her  army  life,  with  the  possible  exception  of  Grace 
Truscott,  never  had  Marion  met  a  woman  for  whom  she 
felt  such  depth  of  affection  and  regard  as  for  Margaret 
Dwight.  The  two,  as  has  been  said,  were  devoted  friends, 
and  when  Margaret  died,  leaving  her  husband,  crushed 
and  heartbroken,  and  that  idol  of  her  heart,  little  Jim, 
it  is  doubtful  if  among  her  own  people  she  was  mourned 


66  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

as  utterly  as  she  was  by  Mrs.  Ray.  In  the  years  that 
followed  Marion  was  forever  planning  for  the  little 
fellow's  future,  and  pouring  forth  a  perfect  flood  of  sym 
pathy  for  that  bereaved  soldier,  his  father.  It  came  as 
a  shock  inexpressible  that  Oswald  Dwight,  after  six 
years'  brooding,  had  married  again,  and  had  given  Mar 
garet's  place  to — what? — a  girl,  young,  beautiful,  ob 
scure,  unprincipled — the  girl  whom  her  own  Sandy 
had  rapturously  loved  and  implicitly  believed  in.  And 
now  Marion  was  called  upon  to  meet  this  woman  in 
"  the  fierce  white  light  that  beats  upon  "  garrison  life — 
see  her  daily,  hourly,  possibly  as  a  next-door  neighbor, 
and  no  husband's  arm  or  counsel  to  lean  upon. 

Nor  was  this  all.  It  had  been  arranged  that  the  fami 
lies  of  officers  ordered  on  foreign  service  should  retain 
quarters  at  the  station  from  which  said  officers  took  their 
departure,  provided  the  quarters  were  not  actually  needed 
by  the  garrison.  Three  out  of  five  the  big  army  posts 
had  been  left  with  but  a  detachment  to  guard  them. 
Minneconjou  was  an  exception.  Hither  had  come  Stone, 
with  two  battalions  of  Foot.  Headquarters,  staff,  band 
and  one  squadron  of  the  cavalry  had  been  there,  but 
band  and  headquarters  were  now  shifted  to  Niobrara. 
How  Marion  wished  the  squadron  could  have  gone,  too ! 
But  that  was  not  to  be.  There  were  still  the  four  troops 
at  the  station,  and  the  Rays  were  still  quartered  in  the 
big,  roomy  house  to  the  right  of  the  post  commander's — 
Marion,  her  sons,  her  niece  and  their  two  servants. 


PREMONITORY    SYMPTOMS  67 

There  was  even  abundant  space  for  her  niece's  diminish 
ing  Advancement  Association — the  secretary's  desk  and 
the  mournful-eyed  young  secretary  being  much  in  evi 
dence  at  the  basement  window  on  the  north  side.  Three 
sets,  the  colonel's  and  the  flanking  field  officers',  had 
been  built  with  high  piazzas  and  well-lighted  basements 
beneath;  all  the  others  were  squat  on  the  hard  prairie 
ground.  Stone  had  two  majors  with  him,  both  junior 
to  Ray  and  the  post  surgeon,  so  they  had  taken  root  in 
the  lines  and,  for  army  men,  were  quite  content.  All  on 
a  sudden  one  day  the  new  major,  Dwight,  drove  out 
from  the  railway  station  in  town,  reported  with  soldierly 
precision  to  Colonel  Stone,  and  accepted  the  promptly 
tendered  invitation  to  be  the  colonel's  guest  until  ready 
to  occupy  his  own  quarters.  Dwight  came  earlier  than 
had  been  expected;  explained  that  he  "  came  ahead  to 
select  quarters,"  would  send  Mrs.  Dwight  the  measure 
ments  of  the  rooms,  then  ask  for  a  week's  leave  to 
return  and  fetch  her  with  their  goods,  carpets  and  varie 
gated  chattels  from  Chicago.  Had  any  letters  or 
dispatches  been  received  for  him?  None?  Dwight 
looked  queer  and  grave.  Indeed,  Stone,  who  had  heard 
much  of  him  and  had  met  him  once  or  twice  in  bygone 
days,  confessed  to  his  wife  that  Dwight  must  have  "  gone 
off  "  not  a  little  in  more  ways  than  one.  Was  it  the 
old  sorrow  or — the  new  wife — or,  mayhap,  the  sunstroke 
in  the  Pampangas? 

That  afternoon  Marion  Ray,  seated  on  the  vine-shaded 


68  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

piazza,  writing  to  her  husband,  looked  up  suddenly  at 
sound  of  a  footstep  and,  startled  and  for  a  moment 
speechless,  gazed  into  the  once  familiar  features  of 
Margaret  Dwight's  once  devoted  husband.  She  was 
slow  to  rise  and  hold  forth  her  hand,  so  strange  was  the 
expression  in  his  tired  eyes.  When  she  could  speak  it 
was  to  say,  though  her  heart  fluttered,  "  Welcome  again, 
Major  Dwight,  but  I'm  so  sorry  Will  is  not  here,  too! 
It  is  barely  a  week  since  he  started." 

"  I  have  hurried/'  was  the  answer,  as  he  took  her 
hand.  "  I  am  so  tired  of  leave,  of  dawdling,  of — almost 
everything.  I'm  wild  to  get  to  work — to  work  again, 
Mrs.  Ray!  That's  what  a  man  must  have." 

All  the  old  strength  and  repose  of  manner  had  gone. 
She  was  shocked  and  troubled  at  the  change,  and  hur 
ried  on  in  her  words  lest  he  should  see  it. 

"  And  how  is  my  boy — our  little  Jim  ?  And — I  hope 
Mrs.  Dwight  is  well,  and — we're  to  see  her  soon,"  she 
ventured. 

"  Mrs.  Dwight  is  looking  remarkably  well,  though  she 
and  I  are  anxious  about  her  mother.  Indeed,  I  had 
hoped  to  find  dispatc*hes — or  something — here  from 
Major  Farrell,"  and  surely  Dwight's  face  betrayed 
rather  more  than  his  words.  "  Jimmy's  in  fine  trim," 
he  hurried  on.  "  They  got  to  be  fast  friends  voyaging. 
They  were  up  on  deck  all  the  homeward  way,  whereas 
I'm  a  very  poor  sailor.  I  could  hardly,  hold  up  my  head 
from  the  time  we  left  Gibraltar." 


PREMONITORY    SYMPTOMS  69 

"  I'm  glad  of  that — friendship,"  said  Marion  gravely, 
guardedly,  for  already,  in  the  friendship  Minneconjou 
had  been  hearing  of,  little  Jim  was  not  included.  The 
Hohcnzollern,  after  a  stop-over  at  Algiers,  had  been 
boarded  at  Gibraltar  by  two  crestfallen  gentlemen  in 
khaki  and  a  quandary.  The  transport  had  preceded  the 
liner  into  the  shadow  of  the  sleeping  lion  just  thirty 
hours,  and,  steaming  on  to  sea  before  the  latter  was 
signaled,  found  some  hours  out  that  Foster  and  Gibson 
had  been  unaccountably  left  behind.  At  their  own  ex 
pense,  their  soldier  wardrobe  and  toilet  replenished  by 
a  score  of  jovial  Britons  who  had  also  contributed  to 
their  detention,  these  two  warriors  completed  their  voy 
age,  and  Gibson  said  he  was  practically  alone,  for,  from 
morn  till  nearly  midnight,  from  off  Cadiz  until  held  up 
at  quarantine,  Foster  had  been  dancing  attendance  on 
the  lovely  Mrs.  Dwight,  the  captain  being  much  of  the 
time  down  with  mal  de  mer. 

Now,  Sandy  had  merely  referred  to  "  two  fellows  left 
at  '  Gib/  "  without  going  into  particulars.  Sandy,  of 
course,  could  not  be  expected  to  know  what  might  have 
transpired  on  the  Hohenzollern.  Sandy  had  said  nothing 
about  the  Dwights  at  Naples.  Sandy  had  not  mentioned 
even  Jimmy,  and  so  long  as  he  shrank  from  the  subject 
the  mother  wisely  would  not  question.  She  was  glad 
now  that  Sandy  was  not  at  home,  that  he  was  busy  with 
his  accounts  over  at  the  Exchange.  She  was  glad  that 
Priscilla  was  not  within  earshot,  that  she  was  busy  with 


70  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

her  Bible  class  on  the  floor  below.  Priscilla,  Aunt  Marion 
owned,  was  inquisitive  at  times,  and  her  theory  of  a 
mission  among  men  was  not  limited  to  the  rank  and  file. 
Priscilla  had  ambitions  embracing  the  moral  improve 
ment  of  every  officer  from  "  C.  O.  to  sub.,"  and  Priscilla 
had  heard  things  somewhere  about  the  post  that  set  her 
to  asking  all  manner  of  questions  of  her  aunt,  questions 
that  set  the  mother  heart  to  fluttering  lest  Priscilla  next 
might  direct  her  batteries  on  Sandy.  No  good  could 
come  from  that,  she  knew,  for  one  of  Sandy's  earliest 
antipathies  had  been  Cousin  'Cil,  whom  he  called  a 
preacher  in  petticoats.  Sandy  was  civil  to  her  now,  but 
by  no  means  inviting,  and  Priscilla  took  it  much  amiss 
that  her  cousin  rather  held  aloof,  refused  to  argue  the 
canteen  question  with  her,  and  could  not  be  drawn  into 
doctrinal  discussion  of  any  kind. 

Below  stairs  could  be  heard  the  low  hum  of  voices 
through  the  open  casement.  Priscilla  had  been  reading 
aloud  to  her  soldier  wards,  but  police  and  stable  call 
would  presently  be  sounding — the  signal  that,  save  the 
secretary,  would  take  away  her  pupils,  and  Aunt  Marion 
hoped  Priscilla  might  not  appear  upon  the  scene  before 
Dwight  departed,  yet  longed  to  hear  him  tell  of  little 
Jim,  and  Dwight  seemed  intent  only  on  telling  her  of 
Inez — Inez  and  her  perfections.  Dwight  seemed  to  feel 
that  he  must  make  this  devoted  friend  of  his  first  wife 
fully  aware  of  the  manifold  perfections  of  the  second. 
To  all  she  listened  with  such  attention  as  she  could  com- 


PREMONITORY    SYMPTOMS  71 

mand,  but  when  again  she  asked  for  Jim  and  whether 
he  was  greatly  grown  and  whether  he  was  studious, — 
or  what, — for  well  she  remembered  all  Margaret's  cher 
ished  plans  for  her  boy,  again  Dwight  responded  with 
what  Inez  said  and  Inez  thought.  Inez  so  loved  him. 
Inez  so  delighted  in  having  him  with  her  in  her  walks 
and  rides.  Inez  thought  him  so  keen,  so  quick,  so  intel 
ligent.  Inez  admired  his  eyes,  his  face,  his  slender  boyish 
beauty.  Inez  could  not  say  enough  in  praise  of  him. 
It  was  Inez  this  and  Inez  that.  There  would  only  be 
three  of  them,  said  he,  when  they  came  to  Minneconjou, — 
Inez,  Jim  and  himself.  They  would  have  no  use,  said 
he,  for  the  big  house  occupied  by  the  Rays.  He  really 
preferred  one  of  the  sets  of  captain's  quarters.  Marion 
had  been  wondering  whether  Inez  would  not  prefer  to 
occupy  these — whether,  in  fine,  they  would  not  have  to 
move  out  and  give  the  Dwights  possession,  but  Dwight 
said  no.  In  fact,  he  would  not  decide  what  set  to  take, 
now  that  he  had  seen  them,  until  Inez  herself  arrived; 
whereat  Mrs.  Ray  breathed  freer. 

And  then  the  bugles  blared  across  the  broad  parade 
and  the  white  stable  frocks  began  to  dot  the  distant 
and  severe  facade  of  the  frontier  barracks,  and  'Cilia's 
pupils  came  forth  and  hastened  to  their  duties,  and,  catch 
ing  sight  of  Colonel  Stone  and  certain  of  his  officers 
wending  their  way  to  the  club,  Dwight  took  his  leave 
and  started  for  the  steps.  He  would  see  Mrs.  Ray  again 
within  a  day,  he  said.  He  was  eager  to  see  Sandy,  who, 


72  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

somehow,  had  not  seemed  himself  when  they  met  at 
Naples.  And  then  Priscilla's  even  tones  were  heard 
below,  and  the  low-pitched,  murmurous  voice  of  the 
deferential  secretary,  and  Marion  would  have  detained 
the  major,  she  hardly  knew  why,  but  he  was  nervously 
saying  adieu  and  hurriedly  descending  the  steps  just  as 
Miss  Sanford  and  her  assistant  issued  from  beneath.  At 
sight  of  the  strange  officer  Priscilla's  glasses  went  up 
for  deliberate  survey,  the  secretary's  hand  in  quick  salute. 
At  sound  of  his  name,  as  Mrs.  Ray  spoke  a  word  in 
parting,  Miss  Sanford's  face  beamed  with  instant  in 
terest,  the  secretary's  paled  with  as  instant  emotion. 
Standing  in  the  slant  of  the  afternoon  sunshine,  where 
Mrs.  Ray  could  not  but  distinctly  see  him,  Private 
Blenke  had  turned  yellow-white  as  unbleached  cotton 
and  was  biting  his  lips  to  control  their  twitching.  Then, 
without  a  word,  the  moment  Dwight  went  his  way, 
Blenke  faced  about  and  bolted  another. 

Miss  Sanford  followed  the  major  with  curious  eyes, 
then  turned  to  resume  certain  instructions  to  her  satel 
lite,  and  behold,  he  was  scurrying  away  across  the  parade 
in  pursuit  of  the  earlier  departures.  "  Why,  I — had  n't 
half  finished,"  said  she,  as  she  turned  to  her  aunt. 
"  What  took  him  off  in  such  a  hurry  ?  " 

There  was  none  to  answer,  however,  for  Mrs.  Ray 
had  turned  back  to  her  letters ;  and  on  the  following  day 
Dwight  hastened  to  Chicago.  Within  the  week  came 
Colonel  Stone,  with  a  face  eloquent  of  perplexity. 


PREMONITORY    SYMPTOMS  73 

"  Mrs.  Ray,"  said  he,  "  this  is  simply  unaccountable, 
but  Major  D wight  writes  me  that,  after  all,  he  shall 
have  to  claim  the  privilege  of  his  rank  and — this  set  of 
quarters.  It  seems  that  Mrs.  Dwight  is  now  expecting 
her  mother  and  others  to  pay  her  an  extended  visit  as 
soon  as  she  is  settled,  and  captain's  quarters  would  not 
be  large  enough." 

Which  was  how  it  happened  that,  two  days  later,  the 
goods  and  chattels  of  the  Rays  were  being  stowed  in 
another  and  much  smaller  tenement  some  distance  down 
the  line.  There  was  a  very  good  set — a  really  roomier 
set — that  Priscilla  much  preferred  only  two  doors  away 
from  that  which  they  were  vacating,  but  Aunt  Marion 
would  have  none  of  it.  She  had  made  neither  comment 
nor  remonstrance  when  Stone  came  in  with  his  unwel 
come  news.  She  would  say  nothing  about  it  now.  That 
she  should  retain  the  quarters  of  a  field  officer  was  some 
thing  to  be  accorded  as  a  courtesy ;  it  could  not  be  de 
manded  as  a  right,  save  at  certain  large  posts  with  small 
garrisons.  But  men  and  women  who  knew  Marion  Ray, 
and  they  who  knew  her  honored  her,  felt  confident  of 
one  thing,  that  she  was  intent  on  getting  as  far  away 
from  the  coming  household  as  lay  in  her  power  to  do. 
Sandy  was  but  a  second  lieutenant  still  and  entitled  by 
law  to  only  one  room  and  a  kitchen.  They  were  in  luck, 
perhaps,  in  finding  so  good  and  new  and  commodious  a 
set  of  quarters  as  these  to  which  they  were  assigned. 

Sandy  had   not   opened   his   head   on   the   subject   of 


74  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

Major  and  Mrs.  Dwight,  even  when,  at  their  instance, 
he,  his  mother  and  their  household  had  been  dispossessed. 
Sandy  had  found  an  easy  horse  and,  with  the  consent 
of  the  surgeon,  had  begun  to  spend  some  hours  in  saddle 
again  when  not  at  the  "  shop."  Then  Priscilla,  believing 
lonely  brooding  to  be  a  bad  thing  for  any  man,  found 
means  to  a  mount  and  surprised  him  one  day  by  appear 
ing  in  habit  and  saddle  ready  to  ride.  For  the  life  of 
him  Sandy  could  not  look  pleased  at  the  prospect.  Five 
years  earlier,  when  Priscilla  was  well-to-do,  he  might 
have  found  excuse  to  avoid  or  to  leave  her.  Now,  in 
the  days  of  her  dependence,  he  could  and  would  not; 
but  he  proved  a  silent  companion. 

Across  the  fords  and  just  at  the  eastern  edge  of  the 
reservation  they  passed  on  their  return  some  ramshackle 
buildings,  only  two  of  which  showed  signs  of  recent 
human  occupation,  and  Priscilla  spoke  of  their  abandoned 
look  and  then — wished  she  had  refrained. 

"  Time  was,"  said  Sandy,  "  when  they  were  bustling 
and  lively  enough.  We  had  no  Exchange  then,  and  the 
men  wandered  out  here  for  their  beer,  and  here  parted 
with  their  money  and  their  hopes.  Here  they  were 
drugged  till  their  last  cent  was  wheedled  or  bullied  out 
of  them.  Then  they  were  kicked  out  in  the  cold  to  take 
their  punishment  at  the  fort.  Then  it  was  our  men  that 
went  to  ruin.  Now,  as  you  see,  it  is  only  the  ranch." 

It  was  useless  arguing  with  people  so  narrow-minded 
as  her  cousins,  thought  poor  'Cilia,  as  she  sharply  touched 


PREMONITORY    SYMPTOMS  75 

her  broncho  with  the  lash  and  drove  him  hock  deep 
through  the  foaming  waters.  What  all  men  should  see 
was  that  alcohol  in  any  form  was  an  enemy  to  be  shunned 
and  set  aside,  a  thing  never  to  be  tampered  with  or 
tolerated,  and  here  were  sane  and,  in  many  ways,  ex 
cellent  people — people  who  had  been  to  her  most  loving 
and  kind  and  charitable — who  were  willing  to  concede 
that  what  she  said  might  all  be  true,  but  were  equally 
convinced  that  what  she  would  do  was  utterly  imprac 
ticable — people  who  themselves  eschewed  the  use  of 
wine,  yet  blindly  persisted  in  providing  it  for  these  chil 
dren  of  the  nation,  the  soldiers,  because,  as  they  said, 
most  of  the  soldiers  could  not  be  made  to  see  the  harm 
in  malt  or  mild  wine  and  would  drink  vilest  whisky  if 
deprived  of  them.  She  considered  Sandy  a  scoffer, 
whereas  Sandy  did  not  scoff  at  all.  He  simply  cited 
facts.  She  longed  for  opportunity  to  convert  him  to  her 
views  and  believed  implicitly  that  if  he  could  but  be  made 
to  listen  he  would  surely  see  the  light,  but  whenever  Cilia 
brought  her  batteries  to  bear  he  confounded  her  with 
some  such  incontrovertible  truth  as  this  or — changed  the 
subject.  This  day  she  had  planned  a  coup,  and  he  had 
met  her,  unexpectedly,  more  than  halfway.  By  the  time 
she  had  regained  her  self-control  they  were  past  the  sentry 
line  and  well  within  the  post. 

"  I  want  to  have  a  real  talk  with  you,  Sandy,"  she  said, 
as  he  swung  her  to  the  ground  in  front  of  their  old 
quarters,  where  still  they  lived  while  fitting  up  the  new. 


76  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

"  You'll  have  to  do  it  all,  'Cil,  if  it's  Canteen  you're 
hitting  at,"  was  the  answer,  as  he  led  the  way  up  the 
broad  steps;  then  stopped  suddenly,  his  young  face 
darkening. 

A  slender,  soldierly  form  had  suddenly  issued  from  the 
hallway  at  the  sound  of  voices,  and  there  stood  Blenke, 
hand  at  cap  visor,  the  mournful  eyes  in  mingled  depth  of 
respect  and  appeal,  fixed  upon  his  young  superior.  It 
was  plain  to  see  that  Lieutenant  Ray  little  relished  the 
sight.  Blenke's  desk  and  duties  had  been  confined  to  the 
floor  below.  Blenke  had  no  occupation  or  right  on 
the  upper  deck.  Mechanically  the  subaltern  returned  the 
salute,  but  there  were  both  suspicion  and  displeasure  in 
his  voice  as,  almost  sharply,  he  inquired : 

"  What  is  it,  Blenke  ?     Why  are  you  here  ?  " 

"  By  accident,  sir,''  was  the  prompt  reply,  subordination 
and  sorrow  mingling  in  tone:  as  mournful  as  the  mourn 
ful  eyes.  "  I  was  leaving  when  I  thought  my  name  was 
called — that  Mrs.  Ray  had  called  me,  and  I  turned  back. 
There  seems  to  be  no  one  here — yet  the  door  was  wide 
open." 

"  I  cannot  imagine  who  could  have  called  you — or 
why,"  answered  Ray  coldly,  never  relaxing  his  odd  scru 
tiny  of  those  dark,  reproachful  eyes.  "  But,  first  call  has 
sounded.  I  won't  keep  you." 

Blenke  saluted.  One  quick  glance  he  shot  at  the  flush 
ing  face  of  his  friend  and  teacher,  as  though  to  say, 
"  Plead  for  me  " ;  then  lithe  and  quick  he  went  bounding 


PREMONITORY    SYMPTOMS  77 

down  the  steps,  Priscilla  looking  after  him.  Ray  pushed 
on  into  the  dismantled  hallway — into  the  parlor  where 
rugs  and  carpets  were  rolled  and  heaped  and  curtains 
stripped  from  the  rods.  He  passed  through  into  the 
little  room  where  stood  his  father's  desk  and  bookcase, 
"  the  den  "  now  doubly  lonely  and  forlorn.  He  passed 
swiftly  through  the  dining-room  and  into  the  rear  hall 
way,  where  wide  open  stood  the  door  to  the  basement 
stairway.  It  proved  nothing,  however,  that  that  door  was 
unbolted  and  ajar.  In  the  work  of  packing  and  moving 
the  men  had  been  going  and  coming  all  the  afternoon. 
Sandy  came  again  to  the  front  and  followed  Priscilla  to 
the  second  story.  Mother  was  not  in  her  room,  the  room 
that  soon  in  all  probability  would  be  hers — the  girl-wife 
of  his  father's  old  friend — the  girl-wife  whose  name 
Sandy  Ray  had  ceased  to  whisper  even  to  himself.  He 
turned  back  and  Priscilla  stood  confronting  him  at  the 
doorway. 

"  What  is  it,  Sandy  ?  Why  should  you  be  so — annoyed 
at  Blenke's  believing  he  was  called  back?" 

"  Because  I  don't  believe  him"  said  Sandy  bluntly, 
"  and — I  don't  like  prowling." 

"  Oh,  how  can  you  be  so  unfair  ?  Blenke  is  no  prowler, 
Sandy !  "  said  Priscilla,  in  fervent  reproach.  "  Blenke  is 
a  born  gentleman,  and  I  know  it,  and  so  will  you  when 
you  hear  his  story." 

"  Oh,  fudge !  "  said  Sandy,  as  he  turned  impatiently 
away,  entered  his  own  room  and  slammed  the  door. 


CHAPTER  VI 

A   BRIDE AND   A   BEAU 

COLONEL  and  Mrs.  Stone  in  the  course  of  the 
following  fortnight  had  occasion  twice,  as  the 
society  columns  expressed  it,  to  "  entertain  at 
dinner  for"  Major  and  Mrs.  Oswald  Dwight,  and  Mrs. 
Dwight  was  the  topic  of  all  tongues  at  Minneconjou 
before  she  had  been  two  days  at  the  post  They  arrived 
on  a  Saturday  evening ;  were  met  at  the  station  by 
the  hospitable  Stones;  driven  at  once  to  the  quarters 
of  that  efficient  and  valuable  commanding  officer;  were 
the  recipients  on  Sunday  of  many  calls,  the  guests  of 
honor  at  dinner  Monday  evening,  at  which  function  they 
met  three  of  the  senior  officers  and  the  adjutant  of  the 
Sixty-first,  each  accompanied  by  his  better  half;  were 
again  on  dinner  duty  Tuesday  evening  to  meet  eight 
others  prominent  in  the  military  social  swim,  and  at  nine 
o'clock  were  escorted  to  the  hop  room,  where  the  regi 
mental  band  and  practically  all  the  officers  and  ladies  of 
the  garrison  were  arrayed  to  welcome  them  and  where 
until  midnight  the  dance  moved  merrily  on. 

To  neither  dinner  was  Mrs.  Ray  invited.  She  pre 
ferred  not  to  make  a  formal  call  on  Sunday,  and  when, 
accompanied  by  Priscilla  and  her  eldest  son,  she  appeared 

78 


A    BRIDE— AND    A    BEAU  79 

at  the  colonel's  quarters  on  Monday  afternoon,  Mrs. 
Dwight  and  Mrs.  Stone  had  not  yet  returned  from  a 
drive.  As  little  Jim  had  spent  a  long  hour  that  morning 
with  his  and  his  own  mother's  old  friend — Dwight  him 
self  bringing  him  over — it  is  within  the  bounds  of  possi 
bility  that  the  drive  had  been  mentioned.  The  major  had 
remained  but  a  few  moments.  He  was  obviously  nervous 
and  ill  at  ease.  He  had  that  matter  of  his  change  of  mind 
about  the  quarters  to  explain,  and  Marion  had  desired 
that  he  say  nothing  whatever  about  it.  It  was  his  right. 
He  was  bound  to  consult  his  wife's  wishes  before  those 
of  any  other  woman,  so  why  refer  to  it?  But  Dwight 
haplessly  stumbled  on.  There  was  still  something  to  be 
said.  Mrs.  Dwight  had  expected  to  have  her  mother  and 
two  cousins  with  her  all  summer  and  September,  but 
Major  Farrell  found  it  impossible  to  leave  Mexico  after 
all.  Mrs.  Farrell  could  not  think  of  leaving  him,  espe 
cially  as  his  health  had  suffered  very  much,  thanks  to  their 
enforced  sojourn  in  an  unsanitary  section  of  old  Manila. 
It  appeared  that  the  major  was  even  an  applicant  for  a 
pension  on  that  ground — a  strange  proceeding  with  one 
so  overcharged  with  mining  stock  and  cattle  profits.  It 
might  be  a  month  or  six  weeks  yet  before  the  rest  of  the 
family  came,  but  Mrs.  Dwight  was  eager  to  get  settled 
under  her  own  roof  where  they  would  be  an  incumbrance 
to  nobody,  and  she  was  going  that  very  day  with  Mrs. 
Stone  in  search  of  servants.  Only  a  maid  had  come  with 
them,  a  maid  whose  ministrations  Inez  declared  she  must 


80  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

have  if  expected  to  appear  to  any  advantage  in  the  society 
to  which  her  husband  was  accustomed.  Mrs.  Stone  knew 
of  a  good  cook  in  town  at  the  hotel  whom  Mrs.  Dwight 
might  tempt  away,  and  then  the  major  had  to  hurry  to 
the  station  to  superintend  the  unloading  of  their  car  of 
furniture. 

Not  until  Tuesday  night  at  the  reception,  therefore, 
did  the  Rays  meet  Mrs.  Dwight.  Mother  and  son  again 
came  together,  Marion  in  simple  evening  toilet,  Sandy, 
as  required  of  all  officers  for  that  occasion,  in  full-dress 
uniform.  Mrs.  Dwight  stood  at  the  colonel's  left.  The 
adjutant,  facing  her,  made  all  the  presentations.  She 
was  gowned  again,  as  she  was  that  night  at  Naples, 
beautifully,  extravagantly,  and  her  jewels  were,  as  then, 
too  much  in  evidence.  She  had  been  looking,  so  remarked 
her  hostess,  somewhat  pale  and  sallow  during  the  day, 
but  there  was  no  lack  of  color,  of  radiance,  of  sparkle 
now.  Her  face  was  exquisite  in  its  dark  beauty,  won 
drous  in  its  witchery.  Her  smile  was  sweetness  itself, 
and  many  a  woman  envied  her  those  perfect  teeth  rather 
more  than  the  diamonds.  Her  soft  Southern  accent  lent  a 
charm  of  its  own  to  her  few  words  of  gracious  welcome 
and  acknowledgment.  It  was  noted  that  she  said  very 
little,  that  she  repeated  much;  but  what  she  said  was  so 
sweetly  said,  and  the  meaning  smile  lent  so  very  much 
more  to  make  it  all  impressive.  Her  very  attitude  was 
one  of  supple,  sinuous  grace,  and,  whatsoever  may  have 
been  lacking  in  the  form  and  variety  of  her  verbal 


A    BRIDE— AND    A    BEAU  81 

response  to  Minneconjou's  welcome,  there  could  be  no 
warrant  for  saying  that  she  did  not  look,  at  least,  her 
part.  Women  stood  and  watched  her  and  marked  the 
play  of  her  slender  little  hands,  the  unconscious,  languor 
ous  use  of  her  beautiful  fan,  and  women  marked  how 
alert,  too,  were  the  wonderful  dark  eyes — how,  even  as 
they  meltingly  and  feelingly  were  uplifted  to  greet  each 
newcomer,  they  saw  each  comer  before  that  comer  stood 
in  her  presence.  She  was  at  her  best  when  Mrs.  Ray, 
pausing  first  to  greet  Mrs.  Stone  and  the  colonel,  was 
passed  on  to  the  star  of  the  evening,  and  the  smiling 
adjutant,  with  unpremeditated  preference  in  his  tone, 
announced  "  Mrs.  Ray,  Mrs.  Dwight ;  your  predecessor 
at  the  head  of  our  squadron."  And  then  for  the  first 
time  that  night  the  bride  stepped  forward,  if  only  a  single 
pace,  and,  as  though  her  heart  went  with  it,  her  hand 
seemed  to  leap  forward  in  impulsive  greeting. 

"  I  have  known  Mrs.  Ray  ever  since  I  first  met  Major 
Dwight,"  said  she,  with  such  wealth  of  gladness  in  her 
tone.  She  never  seemed  to  see  the  young  officer  stand 
ing  with  pale,  unsmiling  face,  awaiting  his  turn  to  be 
advanced  to  the  presence.  "  I  cannot  begin  to  say  how 
glad  I  am  to  meet  her — at  last,"  she  continued.  And 
Marion  Ray,  thoroughbred  woman  of  society,  if  not  of 
the  world,  stood  in  quiet,  smiling  grace  and  dignity,  listen 
ing  without  a  sign  of  rancor  to  the  swift  patter  of  words 
from  the  beautiful  lips  of  the  girl  who  had  played  havoc 
with  her  firstborn's  honest  young  heart,  studying  the 


82  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

beauty  of  the  newcomer's  wondrous  face,  and  wondering, 
as  mothers  will,  that  even  a  lover  could  see  therein  a 
resemblance  to  her  own  daughter — her  dark-eyed  Maidie. 
She  hoped  that  by  this  time  Sandy,  too,  would  see  that 
he  had  been  blind.  She  responded  without  embarrass 
ment  or  effort.  Not  for  a  royal  ransom  would  she  let 
this  fascinator  see  that  her  son  had  ever  so  far  taken  her 
seriously  enough  to  speak,  even  to  his  mother,  of  a  pos 
sible  admiration. 

"  The  major  was  very  long  our  near  neighbor,"  she 
said.  "  And  it  is  good  to  have  him  with  us  again — and 
to  welcome  Mrs.  Dwight."  Then  her  hand  was  extended 
to  Major  Dwight  as,  still  smiling  and  chatting,  she 
seemed  imperceptibly  sidling  toward  him ;  and  then  Sandy 
emerged  into  the  field  of  vision.  "  So  glad  to  see  Mrs. 
Dwight  again,"  said  he,  in  off-hand  assumption  of  jovial 
indifference.  "  Gibson's  Viere,  you  know.  He'll  be  trot 
ting  past  the  grandstand  presently."  And  though  the 
little  hand,  slipped  into  his,  gave  faint,  fluttering,  tenta 
tive  pressure,  he  edged  along,  yielding  place  to  'Cilia  and 
Will,  the  next  comers,  and  precipitated  himself  on 
Dwight.  There  was  unmistakable  glance  of  reproach, 
perhaps  even  of  pain,  from  those  glorious  eyes  as  the 
young  officer  passed  unfaltering  on,  but  it  was  instant; 
it  was  unseen  by  the  aging  and  adoring  soldier  at  her 
side. 

And  in  this  wise  was  the  dreaded  meeting  accomplished 
with  no  one  possibly  the  wise.r}  with  no  one  warned  by- 


A    BRIDE— AND    A    BEAU  83 

word  or  sign  of  the  complications  and  catastrophes  to 
come. 

It  took  Major  D wight  but  four  or  five  days  to  set  his 
own  house  in  order  and  move  his  birdling  into  the  pretty 
cage  he  had  planned  for  her.  Willing  hands  by  dozens, 
both  officers  and  troopers,  had  wrought  with  him  in  the 
transformation.  Beautiful  rugs,  carpets,  and  curtains, 
rare  in  army  parlors,  had  been  lavishly  provided — this, 
too,  despite  well-founded  rumors  that  Dwight  had  no  such 
bank  account  to-day  as  that  he  owned  to  at  Manila.  Say 
ing  no  word  upon  the  subject,  Marion  Ray  had  noted, 
nevertheless,  how  much  more  expensive  and  luxurious 
were  the  surroundings  of  Inez  than  had  been  those  of 
wise  and  provident  Margaret  Dwight.  They  gave  their 
first  dinner,  did  the  Dwights,  one  week  from  the  date 
of  Colonel  Stone's  first,  and  to  this  was  Marion  bidden. 
She  had  not  expected  it,  had  not  provided  herself  with  a 
previous  engagement,  had  to  accept  or  decline  at  once, 
and  accepted. 

"  Mother,"  said  Sandy,  coming  in  at  the  moment,  "  have 
you  seen — has  anything  been  seen  of  a  blouse  of  mine 
sent  home  Tuesday  evening?  I  can't  find  it,  yet  the 
troop  tailor  swears  he  left  it  here  himself." 

"  Who  received  it?  "  asked  Mrs.  Ray.  "  We  were  all 
home  dressing  for  the  reception." 

"  Why,  that's  the  queer  part  of  it,"  was  the  answer. 
"  He  says  he  found  the  back  door  open,  knocked  twice 
and  nobody  answered,  so  he  walked  in  the  kitchen,  laid 


84  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

the  bundle  on  the  table  and  came  out  and  shut  the  door 
after  him." 

Mrs.  Ray  thought  a  moment.  "  I  gave  Sarah  permission 
to  be  out,  and  Minnie  was  up  here  helping  us.  That  may 
have  accounted  for  his  knock  being  unanswered.  You 
went  down  before  I  did,  'Cilia,"  she  continued,  turn 
ing  to  her  niece,  who  was .  busy  at  the  desk.  "  Was 
Sarah  back  then  ?  I  thought  I  heard  you  speak  to  some 
one." 

"  To  two  of  the  Bible  class,"  said  'Cilia.  "  They  came 
to  say  we  couldn't  have  the  use  of  that  little  room  back 
of  the  chapel.  I  don't  understand  it  at  all.  We  offered 

to  clean  it  out  and  store  the  boxes  in  the  cellar,  but " 

And  'Cilia  shrugged  her  shoulders.  She  had  begun  to 
believe  that  the  chaplain  was  jealous  of  her  influence 
over  certain  intractables  in  the  garrison,  and  was  aiming 
to  thwart  her.  This  view  Mrs.  Ray  could  not  share. 
She  presently  put  down  her  pen  and  passed  out  into  the 
dining-room. 

"  It's  a  dark  little  hole  at  best,  Pris,"  said  Sandy,  "  and 
I  offered  you  a  good  bright  room  at  the  Exchange — the 
very  one  your  paragon  used  for  about  the  same  purpose 
when  he  was  stationed  here."  Sandy  would  tilt  at  his 
cousin's  fad  at  times,  and  this  was  a  time,  for  Sandy  had 
been  crotchety  for  a  week. 

"  My  paragon,  as  you  call  him — my  ideal  of  the  soldier 
as  we  saw  him  after  Porto  Rico,"  answered  'Cilia,  with 
dignity  and  precision,  "  held  his  classes  there  when  the 


A    BRIDE— AND    A    BEAU  85 

rest  of  the  building  was  not  what  it  is  to-day — a  rum- 
shop." 

"  Not  a  drop  of  rum  to  be  had  on  the  premises  now, 
Pris — though  there  might  have  been  then." 

"  I  don't  believe  it !  My  general  was  an  ascetic.  No 
one  ever  heard  of  his  using  liquor — and  wine  is  only 
liquor  in  another  form." 

"  Come  to  the  library  and  I'll  show  you  what  your 
General  Ascetic  wrote  of  himself  after  he  was  so  horribly 
shot  in  the  Sioux  campaign.  He  said  he  owed  his 
recovery  to  a  winter  in  California  and  drinking  plenty 
of  good  red  wine  that  made  blood." 

But  Priscilla  knew  that  Sandy  "  had  the  papers  to  prove 
it,"  and  preferred  not  to  see  them,  lest  her  ideals  come 
tumbling.  "  That  might  have  been  necessary  and  by 
physician's  prescription,"  said  she.  "  What  I  condemn 
is  its  usage  when  there  is  no  excuse.  I  should  feel  that 
I  was  enticing  my  class  into  temptation  if  I  led  them  daily 
to  the  Canteen,  and  most  of  them  feel  as  I  do  about  it. 
Blenke,  for  instance — though  you  don't  believe  in  him, 
Sandy — when  I  told  him  of  your  offer,  he  said  he  would 
rather  not  set  foot  under  that  roof." 

"  When  was  that  ?  "  asked  Sandy  curiously,  seeing  a 
chance  for  a  palpable  hit.  "  He  was  sent  to  Leavenworth 
with  the  guard  of  those  deserters  Wednesday  morning, 
and  I  did  n't  have  it  to  offer  to  you  until  Tuesday 
afternoon." 

"  He  came  that  evening  to  say  he  was  ordered  away 


86  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

with  the  guard  detail.  Two  of  my  men  have  gone.  You 
can  see  for  yourself,  Sandy,  that  for  any  important  duty 
the  total  abstainer  is  chosen." 

But  Mr.  Ray  did  not  answer.  He  was  thinking 
intently.  "  Was  Blenke  one  of  the  two  you — spoke  of, 
'Cilia?  "  he  presently  asked. 

"  No.  He  came  by  himself  just  after  they'd  gone.  He 
took  his  leave  a  very  few  minutes  later.  We  heard  you 
coming  down." 

"  And  where  did  you  receive  your  visitors,  Pris  ?  " 

"  I  spoke  with  them  at  the  rear  door — what  other  place 
was  there?  since  you  dislike  my  having  soldiers  come  to 
the  house.  Why,  Sandy  Ray!  what  are  you  thinking 
of?  You  don't  mean " 

"  Hush ! "  said  Sandy.  There  were  footsteps  at  the 
front  and  laughing  voices,  and  a  bang  at  the  gongbell. 
Minnie,  the  housemaid,  fluttered  through  the  hallway. 
"  Are  the  ladies  at  home  ? "  "  Mrs.  Stone  and  Mrs. 
Dwight !  "  stage-whispered  Priscilla,  but  in  an  instant 
Sandy  Ray  had  found  his  feet  and  followed  his  mother, 
who  was  interviewing  cook  at  the  kitchen  door.  "  Mrs. 
Stone  and  Mrs.  Dwight,"  he  echoed,  waited  until  Mrs. 
Ray  had  gone  to  greet  the  callers,  then  bolted  through  the 
sacred  precincts  of  Sarah's  own  domain  and  into  the 
afternoon  sunshine  beyond.  There  Minnie  presently 
fetched  her  young  master  his  broad-brimmed  campaign 
hat,  wondering  why  he  should  look  so  pale.  Making  wide 
detour,  Sandy  found  himself  presently  within  hail  of  the 


A    BRIDE— AND    A    BEAU  87 

club.  It  was  but  an  hour  before  sunset.  The  cavalry 
people  were  just  coming1  back  from  stables  to  supper. 
There  were  not  five  officers  on  the  broad  veranda,  but 
among  them  stood  a  man  in  civilian  dress,  whose  back 
had  a  strangely  familiar  look  and  whose  voice,  when  he 
whirled  about  and  shouted  greeting,  sent  a  thrill  of 
astonishment  not  unmixed  with  wrath,  nerve  racking, 
through  the  young  soldier's  slender  frame. 

"  Hullo,  Sandy !  Got  over  being  grumpy  yet  ?  Come 
up  and  see  a  fellow." 

What  brought  Stanley  Foster,  of  all  men,  here  to  Min- 
neconjou  now? 


CHAPTER    VII 

THE    WOLF    IN  THE   SHEEPFOLD 

A  WEEK  rolled  on  and  matters  at  Minneconjou 
had  become  electric.  The  weather  was  superb. 
The  sun  rose  in  a  cloudless  sky  long  hours  before 
society,  as  represented  at  our  frontier  city  and  station, 
followed  suit,  shook  off  the  fetters  of  sleep  and  began 
bestirring  itself  for  the  day.  And  days  were  long  in 
that  northern  latitude,  long  enough  for  even  the  most 
ambitious  and  enthusiastic  of  commanding  officers  intent 
on  the  instruction  and  development  of  the  force  intrusted 
to  his  care.  Yet  the  days  seemed  hardly  long  enough  for 
Oswald  Dwight,  whose  first  difference  with  the  post  com 
mander  was  on  the  subject  of  morning  gunfire  and  the 
reveille.  To  the  scandal  of  the  cavalry  service,  let  it  be 
recorded  that  in  the  point  at  issue,  without  exception  the 
members  of  Minneconjou's  mounted  service  sided  with 
the  easy-going  infantryman  at  the  head  of  affairs,  and 
against  their  own  immediate  leader — the  over-energetic, 
the  nervously  pushing,  prodding,  spurring,  stirring  squad 
ron  commander. 

During  the  sweet  summer  months,  all  along  the  broad 
lands  of  the  Dakotas,  the  morning  gun  thundered  its 
salutation  to  the  newborn  day  as  the  hands  of  the  clock 


THE    WOLF    IN    THE    SHEEPFOLD         89 

so  nearly  lapped  at  half-past  five.  What  Dwight  de 
manded  of  Colonel  Stone  was  permission  to  rout  out 
the  cavalry  at  half-past  four.  It  was  broad  daylight,  said 
he.  It  was  the  cool  and  beautiful  time  of  the  day.  The 
men  could  have  their  coffee  at  once,  then  march  to  stables, 
lead  to  water, — the  steeds  having  been  already  fed  by  the 
stable  guard, — groom  for  twenty  minutes,  march  back  to 
barracks,  get  their  matutinal  scrub,  a  hearty  breakfast  and 
be  out  to  squadron  drill  when  all  was  still  fresh,  sparkling 
and  exhilarating  before  the  mountain  breeze,  the  lowland 
dust,  or  indeed  before  garrison  society,  was  astir;  then 
they  could  all  be  back  in  time  for  guard-mounting  and  the 
multifarious  drills  and  duties  of  the  morning.  Dwight 
found  his  people  well  up  in  saddle  work,  as  was  to  be 
expected  of  men  long  led  by  so  genuine  a  trooper  as 
"  Billy  "  Ray,  but  they  were  correspondingly  slack  in  foot 
and  sabre  drill,  and  Dwight  in  his  day  had  been  one  of 
the  famous  drillmasters  of  the  — th,  and  seemed  beset  with 
desire  to  keep  up  the  record  now.  "  What  would  you  be 
doing  from  nine  to  noon  ?  "  asked  Stone,  strumming  the 
desk  with  his  finger  tips  and  studying  curiously  the  pale, 
keen,  eager  face  of  the  cavalryman. 

"  Company  drill  afoot,  sabre  drill,  setting  up — almost 
anything !  "  was  the  impatient  answer.  "  These  men  are 
soft,  sluggish,  torpid.  Troopers  should  be  all  wire  and 
catgut.  I  want  to  put  those  four  commands  in  perfect 
trim  for  anything,  Colonel,  and  I  can't  do  it  under  five 
hours'  drill  a  day." 


90  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

But  Stone  shook  his  head.  There  was  no  occasion 
he  maintained,  for  robbing  them  of  an  hour  of  their  sleep. 
They  had  to  work  harder  than  his  men,  anyhow,  and,  if 
anything,  should  be  given  more  sleep,  not  less. 

"  Then  put  them  to  bed  at  ten  o'clock — or  nine,  if  need 
be,"  said  Dwight,  impatient  of  demur;  but  Stone  proved 
obdurate.  "  I  see  no  reason  for  so  radical  a  change," 
said  he,  to  the  relief  of  the  juniors,  who  feared 
Dwight's  vehement  onward  nature  might  prevail  over  the 
placidity  of  Stone;  and  so  the  new-made  major  was  fain 
to  content  himself  with  sounding  mess  call  right  after 
reveille,  then  "  Boots  and  Saddles  "  in  place  of  "  Stables," 
and,  by  dispensing  with  morning  grooming,  getting  his 
troops  into  line  on  the  flats  to  the  south  and  starting  a 
humming  squadron  drill  before  seven  o'clock. 

Time  had  been  in  the  long-ago  happy  days  when  it  was 
quite  the  thing  for  Mrs.  Ray,  Mrs.  Truscott,  Margaret 
Dwight,  and  other  women  of  the  old  regiment  to  ride, 
drive,  or  stroll  out  to  the  ground  and  watch  their  soldier- 
husbands  through  much  of  the  morning's  dashing  drill. 
The  effect  was  good  in  more  ways  than  one.  It  keyed  up 
the  pride  of  the  men  and  kept  down  the  profanity  of  their 
mentors,  some  of  whom,  as  was  a  way  in  the  old  days  of 
the  mounted  service,  would  break  out  with  sudden  and 
startling  blasphemy  when  things  went  wildly  amiss.  It 
is  easy  on  foot  to  bring  instant  order  out  of  apparent 
chaos.  The  stark  command  "  Halt !  "  does  the  business  ; 
but,  given  tenscore,  high-strung,  grain-fed,  spirited  steeds, 


THE    WOLF    IN    THE    SHEEPFOLD         91 

tearing  at  their  bits  and  lunging  full  gallop  in  mad  race 
for  a  charge,  it  often  happens  that  neither  voice  nor 
trumpet,  nor  tugging,  straining  bridle  arm  can  prevail, 
and  it  is  then  the  air  rings  with  expletives.  No  one 
ever  heard  Truscott  swear.  He  was  a  model  of  self- 
control.  Dwight,  too,  had  been  renowned  for  the  suc 
cess  with  which  he  handled  horses  and  men  and  main 
tained  his  personal  serenity.  But  Marion  Ray  more  times 
than  a  few  in  the  earlier  days  of  her  married  life  had  cause 
to  blush  for  Billy,  who,  the  idol  of  his  men  and  perhaps 
the  most  magnetic  drillmaster  and  troop  leader  in  the 
regiment,  so  lost  himself  in  the  enthusiasm  and  dash  of 
squadron  drill  at  the  trot  or  gallop,  that  his  Blue  Grass 
exhortations  could  be  heard  over  the  thunder  of  a  thou 
sand  hoofs,  to  the  entire  delight  of  the  sorrel  troop,  the 
sympathetic  joy  of  their  rivals  and  the  speechless  dismay 
of  the  pious. 

"  Tut-tut-tut ! "  was  a  dear  old  chaplain  wont  to  say ; 
"  is  it  not  strange  that  so  good  a  man  can  use  such 
very  bad  language  ?  "  Yet  Captain  Ray  in  private  life 
shrank  from  profanity  as  he  did  from  punch.  On 
mounted  drill  it  rippled  from  his  lips  with  unconscious, 
unpremeditated  fluency. 

Just  as  in  the  old  days,  therefore,  wives,  sisters,  and 
sweethearts  of  the  dashing  horsemen  of  Minneconjou 
were  now  riding,  driving,  or  strolling  out  to  the  edge  of 
the  drill  ground  and  enjoying  the  spirited  scene.  It 
gave  them  an  hour  of  bracing  air  and  sparkling  dew  and 


92  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

early  sunshine  and  a  wonderful  appetite  for  breakfast. 
Mrs.  Ray  did  not  go.  Neither  her  husband  nor  her  son 
had  now  any  part  in  the  panorama,  and,  looking  from  her 
window  she  could  see  all  she  cared  to  see  of  what  might 
be  going  on — and  more.  The  sound  of  Sandy's  boot- 
heels  overhead  told  her  that  he,  too,  was  up  and  observant, 
though  Sandy,  when  Priscilla,  as  usual  precipitate, 
managed  to  refer  to  it  at  the  breakfast  table,  parried 
the  tongue  thrust  with  a  tale  about  "  best  light  for 
shaving." 

No,  there  were  none  of  Mrs.  Ray's  little  household  who 
went  forth  to  see  the  early  squadron  drill,  but  there  were 
others — many  others — and  most  observed,  if  not  most 
observant  of  these,  was  the  beautiful  young  wife  of  the 
squadron  commander  and  her  invariable  escort,  Dwight's 
former  fellow-campaigner,  their  fellow-voyager  of  the 
Hohemollern,  and  now  their  very  appreciative  guest,  Cap 
tain  Stanley  Foster,  only  just  promoted  to  his  troop  in 
the  — th  Cavalry  and  waiting  orders  at  Minneconjou. 

Mrs.  Dwight  was  not  much  given  to  walking.  She 
could  dance  untiringly  for  hours,  but  other  pedestrianism 
wearied  her.  Mrs.  Dwight  was  as  yet  even  less  given  to 
riding.  She  explained  that  the  major  preferred  she 
should  wait  a  while  until  her  horse  and  English  horse 
equipment  came.  Lieutenant  Scott,  who  had  met  her  in 
Manila,  said  he  had  a  little  tan-colored  Whitman  that 
would  just  suit  her,  whereat  Mrs.  Dwight,  between  pal 
ing  and  coloring,  took  on  something  of  a  tan  shade  over 


THE    WOLF    IN    THE    SHEEPFOLD         93 

her  dusky  beauty  and  faltered  that  "  the  Major  preferred 
the  English — to  the  forked-seat — for  a  lady."  It  would 
seem  as  though  she  desired  it  forgotten  that  her  normal 
way  of  riding  was  astride,  whereas  more  than  half  her 
auditors,  the  officers  at  least,  regarded  that  as  the  proper 
and  rational  seat  for  her  sex.  Mrs.  Dwight,  caring 
neither  to  walk  nor  to  ride,  therefore  was  quite  content  to 
appear  for  two  or  three  successive  mornings  in  a  lovely 
little  phaeton  with  a  pony-built  team  in  front,  a  pygmy 
"  tiger  "  behind  and  a  presentable  swain  beside  her.  The 
fourth  morning  brought  a  rain  and  no  drill,  the  fifth  no 
rain  nor  Mrs.  Dwight,  nor  did  she  again  appear  at  that 
early  hour  despite  the  fact  that  the  drills  daily  became 
more  dashing  and  picturesque.  Her  interest,  she  ex 
plained,  had  been  rather  on  her  husband's  account,  but 
she  knew  so  little  about  such  matters  she  felt  her  infe 
riority  to  real  army  ladies  who  had  been  born  and  bred  to 
and  understood  it,  and  then  after  dancing  so  late  she 
wondered  how  anybody  could  be  up  so  early. 

The  major  himself,  probably,  could  not  have  stood  it, 
but  he,  not  being  a  dancing  man,  had  taken  to  skipping 
away  to  bed  at  or  before  eleven  on  such  nights  as  Minne- 
conjou  tripped  the  light  fantastic  toe,  but  "  Inez  so  loved 
to  dance  "  he  considerately  left  her  to  finish  it,  with  Foster 
to  fetch  her  home ;  which  Foster  did. 

But,  of  the  few  elders  at  Minneconjou  who  had  per 
sonal  knowledge  of  Dwight's  prowess  as  a  cavalry  drill- 
master  in  by-gone  days,  and  of  the  many  who,  being  told 


94  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

thereof,  had  gone  forth  to  see  and  to  enjoy,  there  lived 
now  not  one  who  had  not  suffered  disappointment.  So 
far  from  being  the  calm,  masterful,  yet  spirited  teacher 
and  leader,  clear  and  explicit  in  his  instructions  and 
serene  and  self-controlled  where  men  and  horses  became 
nervous  and  fidgety,  Dwight  proved  strangely  petulant 
and  querulous.  His  tone  and  manner  were  complaining, 
nagging,  even  snarling.  Nothing  seemed  to  please  him. 
Troop  leaders,  subalterns  and  sergeants  were  forever  com 
ing  in  for  a  rasping,  and  each  successive  day  the  command 
paced  slowly,  sedately  homeward,  cooling  off  after  a  hot 
drill,  looking  more  and  more  sullen  and  disgusted. 
Officers  dismounted  at  the  Club,  quaffed  "  shandygaff  " 
and  sometimes  even  "  Scotch  and  soda  "  in  silent  sense  of 
exasperation.  The  men  rode  away  to  stables,  rubbed 
down  and,  as  they  plied  the  wisps,  said  opprobrious  things 
between  their  set  teeth.  As  for  the  horses,  they  took 
counsel  together  when  turned  out  to  herd  and  settled  it 
to  their  satisfaction  that  something  was  sorely  amiss  with 
the  major — who  had  at  last  begun  to  swear. 

And  something  was  sorely  amiss  with  Dwight,  as  any 
one  who  noted  his  brilliant,  restless  eyes,  his  haggard  face 
and  fitful  manner  could  not  fail  to  see.  It  was  at  this 
stage  of  the  proceedings,  as  Stone  squarely  owned  up 
later,  that  he  as  post  commander  should  have  taken 
Dwight  to  task,  even  to  the  extent  of  administering  cor 
rection.  But  the  strongest  soldier  is  sometimes  disarmed 
at  sight  of  a  fellow's  suffering,  and,  for  fear  of  adding  one 


THE    WOLF    IN    THE    SHEEPFOLD         95 

pang,  will  suppress  a  needed  word.  Thus  it  happens  that 
occasionally  a  commander  passes  unrebuked  a  soldier's 
fault.  Thus  it  happens  time  and  again  that  men,  stern 
and  unflinching  in  dealing  with  their  fellows,  submit  in 
silence  to  years  of  a  woman's  abuse,  because  "  she's  such 
a  sufferer." 

But  here  was  something  Stone  might,  and  possibly 
should,  have  done  and  thereby  measurably  cleared  the 
social  sky  and  surely  earned  Dwight's  silent  gratitude, 
and  this  Stone  did  not  do,  even  though  spurred  thereto 
by  a  clear-visioned  wife,  and  that  was — say  a  word  of 
admonition  to  Captain  Foster. 

He  deserved  it.  All  Minneconjou  was  a  unit  on  that 
head.  He  was  as  utterly  out  of  place  there  as  a  cat  in  a 
creamery.  They  who  had  heard  the  story  of  his  atten 
tions  to  Mrs.  Dwight  during  the  Hohenzollern's  run  from 
Gibraltar  to  Governor's  Island  were  disturbed  by  his  sud 
den  and  unheralded  appearance  at  the  post,  and  distressed 
that  Dwight  should  be  among  the  first  to  welcome  him, 
and  the  one,  and  at  first  the  only  one,  to  invite  him  to  a 
room  under  his  roof.  Men  looked  every  which  way  but 
at  each  other  and  held  their  tongues  when  it  was 
announced  that  Foster  was  the  guest  of  the  Dwights. 
Women  looked  into  each  other's  eyes  and  gasped  and  said 
all  manner  of  things  as  the  news  went  round.  Yet  what, 
at  first  at  least,  was  there  to  block  the  plan?  The  infan 
try  officers  felt  that  they  must  not  take  the  initiative;  it 
was  purely  a  cavalry  affair.  Dwight  and  Foster  had 


96  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

served  together  several  years.  Dwight  possibly  did  feel, 
as  he  too  often  took  occasion  to  say,  more  than  grateful 
to  Foster  for  "  his  courtesy  to  Mrs.  Dwight  while  I  was 
cooped  up  in  my  stateroom."  Two  or  three  cavalry 
chums,  taking  secret  counsel  together,  hit  upon  a  blunder 
ing,  clumsy,  best-intentioned  scheme,  and  Washburn,  who 
could  n't  bear  Foster  and  had  never  foregathered  with 
him,  was  deputed,  as  the  only  captain  with  spare  rooms 
and  no  family,  to  take  the  bull  by  the  horns  and  the 
unwanted  visitor  to  his  ingle  nook,  which  Washburn  did 
with  simulated  joviality  and  about  as  follows: 

"  Say,  old  man,  you  don't  want  to  be  roosting  in  a  dove 
cote  while  the  birds  are  billing  and  cooing.  You  can't 
have  any  fun  at  Dwight's.  You'll  get  nothing  but  Apol- 
linaris  between  meals.  Come  to  my  shack,  where  there's 
a  room — and  a  demijohn — all  ready  for  you,"  which  bid 
proved,  unhappily,  none  too  alluring.  Foster  thanked 
him  with  a  glint  in  his  eye.  "  Dwight  asked  me  long 
ago,"  said  he,  which  was  the  petrified  truth,  though 
Dwight's  words  were  perfunctory,  and  the  invitation  one 
of  those  things  so  often  said  to  a  man  when  the  sayer 
hopes  to  Heaven  he's  seeing  the  last  of  him. 

But  now  that  Foster  ivas  here,  his  guest,  nothing  could 
exceed  the  glow  of  Dwight's  hospitality.  It  was  painful 
to  note  the  eagerness  with  which  he  sought  to  assure  all 
Minneconjou  of  his  long-standing  friendship  for  Foster 
in  face  of  the  fact  that  some  of  the  squadron  well  knew 
they  had  never  met  in  Margaret's  day,  and  were  never 


THE    WOLF    IN    THE    SHEEPFOLD         97 

really  comrades  thereafter.  Moreover,  they  were  men  of 
utterly  divergent  mold  and  temperament.  Dwight  had 
been  reare'd  in  the  shadow  of  the  flag,  a  soldier  by  birth, 
lineage  and  education.  Foster  had  come  in  from  civil 
life,  after  a  not  too  creditable  career  at  college.  He  had 
come,  moreover,  with  the  repute  of  being  a  Squire  of 
Dames  in  "  swagger  "  Eastern  society.  He  danced  well, 
dressed  well,  and  talked  well — when  he  felt  like  it.  He 
"  knew  a  lot,"  said  men  who  knew  little  outside  of  the 
anriy. 

/  He  knew  enough,  at  all  events,  to  realize  that  army 
society  would  be  far  less  tolerant  of  a  "  squire "  of 
his  kind  than  had  been  that  of  Gotham,  and  during  his 
decade  of  service  that,  at  least,  had  not  been  held  as  his 
principal  fault.  A  semi-cynical  manner,  a  propensity 
for  stirring  fellows  on  their  sore  points,  a  pronounced 
selfishness  and  an  assumed  intimacy  with  men  who  dis 
liked  him  were  the  things  that  most  conspired  to  make 
him  unpopular.  He  had  ability;  he  could  be  agreeable, 
but  indolence  and  indifference  dwarfed  his  powers.  It 
was  not  until  he  came  under  the  spell  of  this  dark  girl's 
grace  and  beauty  that  Stanley  Foster  had  succeeded  in 
doing  anything  worthy  of  mention.  Now  he  was  being 
mentioned  far  more  than  he  wished,  and,  though  he  heard 
it  not,  he  knew. 

But  they  went  to  a  dance  the  night  of  the  day  he  came, 
and  Dwight  gave  a  dinner  the  next  night,  and  another 
the  next.  Then  there  had  to  be  others  given  in  return, 


98  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

and  morn,  noon,  afternoon  and  evening,  Foster  found 
himself  at  the  side  of  Mrs.  Dwight.  What  could  she  do? 
He  came  to  stay  only  three  days,  but  the  week  went  by, 
and  so,  possibly,  did  his  orders.  Monday,  Tuesday,  and 
Wednesday  they  were  out  at  morning  drill.  Then  the 
pretty  phaeton  and  its  lovely  occupant  and  her  vigilant 
convoy  came  no  more.  Inez  said  she  "looked  like  a 
fright  at  that  hour  of  the  morning,  anyway,"  in  which 
statement  most  women  agreed.  Possibly  it  was  that  that 
stayed  her. 

However,  a  second  Sunday  had  come  since  Foster's 
advent,  and  the  squadron  was  having  a  rest  and  the 
chaplain  holding  service,  and  Major  Dwight,  as  was  his 
wont,  came,  book  in  one  hand  and  little  Jim  clinging  fondly 
to  the  other,  to  kneel  among  the  worshipers,  to  rever 
ently  follow  the  beautiful  service,  his  boy  snuggling  to 
his  side  and  reading  aloud  from  the  same  page.  It  was 
the  service  Margaret  had  loved,  and  taught  her  husband 
to  honor,  and  had  won  his  promise  that  Jimmy  should 
ever  be  led  to  it,  and  loyally,  devoted,  had  the  father 
fulfilled  the  promise,  even  after  the  young  wife  came  to 
wean  him  from  much  that  Margaret  had  inspired.  Inez 
this  day  came  not  with  them.  To  begin  with,  Inez  had 
been  reared  in  the  fold  of  the  Mother  Church,  and,  though 
years  had  served  to  loose  the  bonds  and  possibly  sap  what 
little  she  ever  had  of  faith,  she  had  sought,  at  least,  no 
substitute.  Obediently  had  she  gone  at  first  with  her 
soldier-husband  and  looked,  in  the  eyes  of  his  kith  and 


THE    WOLF    IN    THE    SHEEPFOLD         99 

kin,  the  picture  of  meek  piety  and  adoration  as  she  fol 
lowed  the  new,  strange  ritual.  But,  once  away  from 
family  observation,  Inez  had  found  refuge  in  hebdomadal 
headaches  that  came  with  the  Lord's  Day  and  kept  her 
from  church.  She  was  "  feeling  far  from  well  this  morn 
ing,"  said  Dwight,  in  answer  to  queries,  and  had  been 
persuaded  to  remain  in  bed.  So  he  and  Jimmy  had  come 
to  church  and  Foster  had  gone  to  the  Club  to  write  some 
letters  and  wire  to  Washington,  and  all  were  "  present  or 
accounted  for,"  as  Captain  Washburn  grimly  announced 
at  the  Club.  It  was  a  lovely  warm  Sunday,  too,  and  the 
old  chaplain  was  effective  as  a  reader.  The  choir  was 
capital,  despite  Priscilla's  criticisms,  and  the  attendance 
was  large.  Army  folk,  as  a  rule,  flock  but  sparsely  to  the 
sanctuary,  but  Minneconjou  had  not  a  few  devout  church 
people,  even  in  the  ranks,  Blenke  being  so  earnest  in  his 
piety  that  when  detailed  for  Sunday  guard  he  never 
failed  to  effect  an  exchange,  even  though  it  cost  him  two 
tours  for  one.  Furthermore,  it  was  communion  service, 
and  unusually  long. 

Marion  Ray  had  entered  early — Sandy,  pale-faced  and 
thin,  at  her  side ;  and  together  they  had  knelt,  mother  and 
son,  and  then  sat  silently  awaiting  the  "  Processional." 
When  Dwight  and  Jimmy  walked  up  the  aisle  and  took  a 
pew  on  the  other  side  and  nearer  the  altar,  Marion  had 
smiled  fond  greeting  to  the  little  fellow,  and  he  had 
answered.  Twice  as  she  gazed  at  them  later,  Dwight's 
arm  about  Jimmy's  curly  head,  his  sinewy  hand  resting 


100  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

on  the  further  shoulder  and  drawing  him  to  his  side, 
heavy  tears  welled  up  into  the  blue  eyes  of  the  tender 
hearted  woman.  Never  yet  had  that  strong,  sinewy  hand 
been  uplifted  to  inflict  the  lightest  chastisement  on  Mar 
garet's  beloved  boy.  Only  the  day  before  on  his  regular 
visit,  nestling  to  her  knee  and  telling  her  laughingly  how 
Sergeant  Shock,  the  schoolmaster,  had  walloped  Scotty 
Burns,  the  band  leader's  eldest  hope,  Jimmy  had  looked 
up  suddenly  into  her  eyes.  "  Why,  Aunt  Marion,"  he 
said,  "  only  think !  I've  never  known  what  it  was  to  be 
whipped.  Can  you  fancy  daddy's  ever  using  a  strap 
on  me  ? " 

"  God  forbid !  "  she  shuddered,  not  knowing  why,  think 
ing  perhaps  only  what  agonies  that  would  have  cost  Mar 
garet,  and  then  Priscilla  had  come  in  and  their  confidences 
ceased.  Priscilla  was  firm  in  her  theory  that  children 
were  too  much  petted  and  coddled  nowadays,  and  that 
more  of  the  rod  and  less  of  rhubarb  was  what  they 
needed. 

Suddenly,  just  after  the  second  lesson,  while  the  rich 
ringing  voices  of  the  soldier  choir  were  chanting  the 
"  Gloria,"  little  Jim  was  seen  to  bow  his  head  and  bur 
row  for  his  handkerchief.  Dwight  looked  down,  bent 
over  him,  whispered  a  word  or  two,  smiled  encourage 
ment  and  fond  assurance,  and,  blushing  very  much,  with 
downcast  eyes  and  his  face  half  hidden  in  cambric,  the 
lad  came  forth  and  hrstened  down  the  aisle  and  out  into 
the  brilliant  sunshine  beyond. 


THE    WOLF    IN    THE    SHEBPFOLD       1*0:1 

"  Nose-bleed,"  whispered  Dwight  to  Mrs.  Stone,  who 
leaned  back,  sympathetically,  from  her  pew.  "  It  some 
times  seizes  him  just  that  way." 

And  the  stately  service  went  uninterruptedly  on,  and 
Jimmy  over  home,  and  little  more  was  said  of  the  incident 
until  the  coming  of  another  day. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

ACCUSING    LETTERS 

FOR  a  week  Miss  Priscilla  Sanford  had  been  in  a 
state  of  mind  bordering  on  the  ecstatic.  For 
months  letters  of  portentous  size,  bearing  the 
stamp  of  a  great  and  powerful  organization  of  Chris 
tian  women,  had  been  left  at  her  door,  and  many  an 
hour  had  that  energetic  maiden  been  devoting  to  corre 
spondence  with  boards,  committees,  secretaries,  etc.,  add 
ing  much  to  the  burden  of  the  mail  orderly,  and  not  a 
little  to  his  malevolence.  A  dour  and  unsocial  Scot  was 
McPheirson,  as  he  called  himself,  but  there  was  wisdom 
in  the  selection,  for  Kennedy,  his  predecessor,  was  as 
genial  as  Mac  was  glum,  and  Kennedy's  fall  from  grace 
was  due  mainly  to  his  amiable  weakness  for  the  opposite 
sex,  a  trait  that  had  led  to  his  lingering  far  too  long  in  the 
early  spring  mornings — and  many  a  "  storm  house  " — 
along  the  row,  and  to  concomitant  complaint.  Letters 
delayed,  letters  even  diverted  from  their  proper  destina 
tion,  had  been  all  too  often  charged  to  him,  for  more 
than  one  housemaid,  not  to  mention  a  mistress  or  two, 
was  possessed  of  a  devil  of  curiosity  as  to  the  corre 
spondence  of  many  another,  and  Kennedy  was  too  much 
interested  in  all  of  them  to  be  austere.  Not  so  McPher- 

102 


ACCUSING    LETTERS  103 

son.  There  was  not  another  of  his  clan,  there  were  but 
three  of  his  nationality,  in  the  entire  garrison,  for  seldom, 
save  under  the  flag  of  Great  Britain,  is  the  Scot  in  peace 
time  a  soldier.  Mac  had  served  his  native  country  in  the 
"  Forty  Twa  " ;  had  come  to  the  States  a  time-expired 
man;  had  met  his  fate,  married,  and  been  bereft  and 
deserted  within  two  years,  and,  like  many  another  man, 
he  had  sought  in  the  profession  of  arms  the  peace  denied 
him  at  the  domestic  fireside.  Uncle  Sam  employs  no 
recruiting  solicitors;  he  needs  none,  for  the  petticoat 
drives  to  his  ranks  more  men  than  he  will  take.  Some 
thing  of  Mac's  history  was  made  known  to  his  colonel, 
and  when  Kennedy  had  to  be  replaced,  although  Mac 
had  not  been  a  year  in  the  regiment,  Stone  issued  his 
mandate.  "  There's  the  man  for  the  place,"  said  he  to 
the  adjutant.  "  There'll  be  no  peeping  and  prying  with 
that  red-headed  Sawny  in  charge." 

Priscilla  had  not  been  slow  to  note  the  substitution,  nor 
to  divine  the  cause.  Priscilla  had  much  disapproved  of 
Kennedy,  and  Kennedy  of  her.  "  That  prayin',  pryin', 
pesterin'  old  maid  beyant,"  he  described  her  to  the  sur 
geon's  becapped  and  bewitching  Kathleen,  the  belle  of 
the  non-commissioned  officers'  ball.  Priscilla  found  in 
Presbyterian  Mac  a  far  more  promising  subject,  and  was 
aggrieved  and  dismayed  at  her  lack  of  success.  Mc- 
Pherson  would  only  stand  at  salute,  frigidly  respectful, 
but  as  icily  impenetrable.  Mac  scented  mischief  at  the 
outset.  He  had  heard  much  among  the  men  about  Miss 


104  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

Sanford's  kindergarten,  the  Bible  class,  the  prayer  meet 
ings,  and  her  persistent  preachings  against  the  Canteen. 
Now,  Mac  himself  disapproved  of  that  institution,  and 
hearing  of  this — I  fear  me  Sandy  told  her,  and  for  mo 
tives  altogether  mischievous — Miss  Sanford  had  lain  in 
wait  for  Mac,  and  held  him  one  brief  moment  in  converse 
at  the  door.  The  story  of  that  episode  delighted  Minne- 
conjou  and  the  minority,  let  us  say,  when  it  was  later  told 
in  Congress. 

"  I'm  so  glad  to  hear,  McPherson,"  said  Miss  Sanford, 
beaming  upon  him,  as  she  took  from  his  hand  the  little 
packet  of  letters,  "  that  you,  too,  are  one  of  the  right  sort 
of  soldiers.  Now,  tell  me  why  you  disapprove  of  the 
Canteen,"  for  Priscilla  was  sending  that  day  another 
long  letter  of  experiences  to  the  Banner  of  Light;  and 
the  reply  came,  prompt,  unflinching,  uncompromising, 
but — most  unsatisfactory : 

"  Because,  mem,  ye  canna  get  a  drap  o'  whusky." 
And  so  saying  McPherson  was  all  simple  sincerity. 
Bred  to  its  use  in  the  raw  fogs  of  his  native  glen,  accus 
tomed  to  his  modest  daily  tot  even  when  on  "  sentry  go  " 
at  the  Castle,  or  the  water  gate  at  Gibraltar,  he  and  his 
comrades  of  the  Black  Watch  had  been  reared  in  the 
broad  faith  that  teaches  temperance,  not  intolerance. 
Their  canteen  sergeant  set  the  limit,  not  the  pace,  and 
doubtless  Mac  in  'listing  for  a  soldier  in  the  land  of 
liberty  had  looked  perhaps  for  even  greater  license. 
Beer  he  called  "  swipes,"  and  despised.  Rhine  wine, 


ACCUSING    LETTERS  105 

tasted  but  once,  set  his  grim  face  awry,  and  presently 
townward.  Mac's  one  peccadillo  since  joining  at  Min- 
neconjou  was  a  rantin',  roarin'  drunk  in  Silver  Hill  that 
cost  Uncle  Sam  three  days  of  his  services,  and  the  High 
lander  three  months  of  his  pay.  There  were  fines  both 
military  and  municipal.  In  disgust  Mac  swore  off.  He 
"  had  na  use  for  a  consairn  that  compelled  a  mon  to  walk 
three  miles  to  get  a  wee  drappie — and  lose  three  months' 
siller." 

But  Priscilla  was  undaunted  still.  She  had  written 
glowingly,  enthusiastically,  unceasingly,  of  all  her  efforts 
to  promote  the  cause  of  temperance  among  the  nation's 
soldiery.  She  had  told  much  of  her  converts  to  total 
abstinence,  and  little  of  their  backsliding.  She  had  man 
aged,  through  Blenke  and  others,  to  get  a  transcript  of 
the  daily  guard  report,  and  the  punishments  awarded  by 
the  summary  and  general  courts-martial.  Minneconjou 
had  now  a  garrison  of  some  eight  hundred  men,  with  a 
big  and  bustling  frontier  town  only  a  few  miles  away. 
Thanks  to  the  system  of  the  post  Exchange  and  the  careful 
supervision,  both  of  its  customers  and  its  supplies,  drunk 
enness  had  been  reduced  almost  to  a  minimum.  Not  one 
out  of  one  hundred  men  was  in  confinement,  either 
awaiting  or  serving  sentence.  Not  more  than  ten  in  two 
months  had  been  fined  for  minor  breaches  of  discipline 
due  to  drink.  Some  old  topers,  relics  of  the  sutler-shop 
days  of  the  army,  were  still  to  be  found,  men  whose 
stomachs  could  not  be  always  appeased  by  mild  measures, 


106  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

and  demanded  the  coarser  stimulant — in  bottles  smug 
gled  from  town;  but  every  case,  however  mild,  had  been 
made,  it  seems,  the  text  for  one  of  Priscilla's  vivid  letters 
descriptive  of  the  depravity  still  rampant  in  the  army,  and 
due  entirely  to  the  presence  of  that  blot  upon  Christian 
civilization — the  Canteen. 

And  well  had  they  served  their  purpose.  In  fancied 
security,  knowing  that  their  methods  had  resulted  in  the 
greatest  good  to  the  greatest  number,  the  officers  on  duty 
with  troops  had  read  with  smiling  tolerance  marked 
copies  of  Eastern  papers  detailing  the  concerted  efforts  of 
the  crusaders  against  the  post  Exchange.  Congress  had 
been  memorialized.  Congress  had  good  naturedly  lis 
tened  to  the  successive  readings  of  a  bill  abolishing  the 
system  and  forbidding  the  sale  of  either  beer  or  wine  at 
any  military  post  in  the  United  States.  Then,  brimful, 
bustling  with  excitement,  and  rejoicing,  Priscilla  read 
that  her  letters  had  been  largely  instrumental  in  winning 
over  certain  of  the  opposition,  and  that  when  the  question 
came  to  a  vote  the  noble  leaders  of  a  noble  cause  would 
be  present  in  force,  and  when  the  House  sat,  there — there 
would  they  sit  and  watch,  and  woe  betide  the  advocate  of 
the  arch  fiend  rum  that  dare  vote  against  their  sacred 
measure.  Before  the  army  could  realize  what  was  com 
ing,  the  House  sat  in  judgment  on  the  bill,  the  Society 
sat  in  judgment  on  the  House;  its  members  glanced 
casually  at  the  subject  and  fearfully  at  the  galleries  and — 
succumbed.  "  The  Senate  will  kill  it,  anyhow,  so  we 


ACCUSING   LETTERS  107 

might  as  well  make  ourselves  solid, — it's  only  the  army, 
anyway,"  was  the  expression  of  one  long-headed  legisla 
tor.  Priscilla  screamed — squealed  rather — in  ecstasy 
over  the  telegram  brought  her  at  breakfast,  threw  the 
paper  to  Sandy  and  herself  into  a  pas  seul  that  fairly 
amazed  Aunt  Marion  and  scandalized  tlie  cat.  But, 
when  a  week  or  so  later  the  Senate,  too,  quailed  before 
the  basilisk  eyes  in  the  galleries,  and  the  bill  went  to  the 
President  and  became  at  once  a  law,  it  is  safe  to  say  that, 
for  one  memorable  day,  Miss  Sanford  not  unwarrantably 
looked  upon  herself  as  of  infinitely  more  consequence 
than  the  commanding  officer. 

Then,  in  the  midst  of  the  amaze  and  bewilderment  that 
fell  upon  the  fort,  came  sensation.  Colonel  Stone  sent  for 
Sandy  Ray,  nodded  "  withdraw  "  to  his  adjutant,  who 
closed  the  door  behind  him,  and  then  looked  up  with 
somber  eyes  at  the  pale-faced  young  fellow  before  him. 

"  Your  occupation's  gone,  Sandy,"  said  he  sorrow 
fully.  "  They've  pulled  from  under  us  the  best  prop  to 
order  and  discipline  that  ever  we  had.  It  has  n't  been  a 
square  deal.  They  won  by  methods  we  could  n't  hope  to 
meet,  and," — drawing  forth  certain  newspaper  clippings, 
— "  here  are  specimens.  For  your  father's  sake,  I  liked 
you  before  I  grew  to  like  you  for  your  own ;  but  if  your 
father  himself  were  here,  and  head  of  the  house  instead 
of  yourself,  I'd  have  to  hold  him  to  account  as  I  must  hold 
you.  Read— that." 

And   Sandy,   turning   paler   still,   and   quivering   with 


108  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

mingled  wrath  and  shame,  stood  and  read  somewhat  as 
follows : 

At  Fort  Minneconjou  the  situation  is  even  worse.  We  have 
it  from  indisputable  authority  that,  so  far  from  seeking  to  check 
the  evil  among  their  men,  officers  of  the  highest  rank  freely  min 
gle  with  them  at  the  garrison  saloon,  and  urge  and  incite  them  to 
drink.  Is  it  to  be  wondered  at,  therefore,  that  the  sickening 
scenes  depicted  by  our  correspondent  are  of  almost  daily  occur 
rence? — that  young  lads,  fresh  from  the  pure  influences  of  peace 
ful  homes,  the  mother's  blessing  still  echoing  in  their  ears,  the 
mother's  kiss  still  warm  upon  their  brows,  are  forced  to  witness 
such  revolting  crimes,  to  hear  such  ribald  oaths,  and  gradually, 
through  the  example,  of  officers  seeking  doubtless  to  increase  the 
revenue  derived  from  the  sale  of  the  vile  poisons  they  purchase 
at  wholesale  from  equally  vile  distillers,  and  in  the  hope  of  win 
ning  the  favor  of  these  all-powerful  superiors,  to  forget  the 
teachings  of  home,  the  prayers  of  parents  and  kindred,  and  to 
yield  to  the  tempter  and  become  in  turn  slaves  of  the  soul-destroy 
ing  habit,  helpless  victims  of  rum?  How  long,  O  Lord,  how 
long  will  the  representatives  of  a  free  and  enlightened  people 
continue  to  sanction  such  infamy? 

:<  That's  one  of  a  dozen  editorials,"  said  the  colonel. 
"  What  most  concerns  us  is  the  one  of  a  dozen  letters  on 
which  it  is  based.  Now,  look  at  this."  And  Sandy 
read. 

FORT  MINNECONJOU,  S.  D.,  May  30,  19—. 
EDITOR  BANNER  OF  LIGHT  : 

Since  my  last,  of  a  week  ago,  no  less  than  seven  soldiers,  men 
who,  co'ild  they  be  divorced  from  drink,  would  be  ornaments  to 
the  service  of  their  country,  have  been  thrown  into  the  garrison 
prison,  or  hauled  before  their  judges, — these  latter  the  very  men 


ACCUSING    LETTERS  109 

who  advocate  and  encourage  the  sale  of  intoxicants, — to  receive 
their  punishment  for  various  crimes  and  misdemeanors  com 
mitted  while  under  the  influence  of  drink.  And  so  it  goes. 
They,  the  helpless  victims,  must  suffer  the  consequences  of  the 
crimes  of  their  officers,  who  are  able  to  divide  each  month  the 
profits  of  their  nefarious  traffic,  and  go  utterly  unwhipped  of 
justice.  Only  two  days  ago,  speaking  of  this  matter  after  morn 
ing  service,  one  of  our  veteran  soldiers  said,  with  tears  in  his 
eyes,  "  If  the  Christian  people  of  this  land  only  dreamed  what 
sins  were  being  committed  under  cover  of  the  devil-inspired  Can 
teen,  they  would  rise  up  as  one  man  and  demand  its  extinction." 
But,  as  I  said  before,  so  long  as  their  most  popular  officers  are 
permitted  unrebuked  to  meet  them,  and  carouse  with  them,  and 
thereby  teach  and  inspire  the  young  and  thoughtless  soldier  to 
drink,  what  can  we  accomplish?  The  sights  and  sounds,  the 
fearful  scenes  and  frightful  curses  to  which  I  have  been  witness 
here,  all  due  to  the  demon  that  lurks  within  that  protected  rum 
hole  opposite  my  window,  would  appall  a  Christian  community — 
which  this  is  not. 

Sandy  turned  to  the  wrapper,  his  lips  almost  as  gray  as 
his  young  face.  It  was  the  copy  of  a  letter  from  the 
pastor  of  a  church  in  a  far  Eastern  city,  inclosing  five 
newspaper  clippings,  and  calling  upon  the  Secretary  of 
War  to  order  the  instant  court-martial  and  dismissal  of 
the  military  officers  responsible  for  the  abominable  state 
of  affairs  existing  at  Fort  Minneconjou ;  which  letter  the 
Secretary  had  respectfully  referred  to  the  Commanding 
General,  Department  of  the  Middle  West,  for  "  investiga 
tion  and  report,"  which  paper  and  inclosures  that  official 
had  respectfully  referred  to  the  commanding  officer,  Fort 


110  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

Minneconjou,  with  similar  demand.  Stone  had  received, 
read,  remarked  and — sent  for  Sandy. 

An  hour  later,  as  Miss  Sanford  was  sallying  forth  on 
"  an  errand  of  mercy,"  as  she  had  usually  heard  such 
missions  described, — she  was  going  to  the  post  hospital 
with  a  fresh  supply  of  temperance  tracts  and  a  small  box 
of  cherries, — she  encountered  her  cousin  at  the  door,  and 
something  in  his  face  made  her  own  lose  color.  The 
D wights'  phaeton  came  bowling  down  the  road  at  the 
moment,  Mrs.  Dwight  bowing  and  smiling  bewitchingly, 
Captain  Foster  gallantly  lifting  his  derby,  for,  when  others 
could  not  wear  it,  Foster  favored  civilian  dress.  Miss 
Sanford  responded  vaguely,  Sandy  not  at  all.  Possibly 
he  did  not  wish  to  s.ee.  Possibly,  said  Priscilla  to  her 
self,  it  is  that  that  has  so  upset  him.  She  hoped,  indeed, 
it  might  be  that,  and  not  thai  which,  almost  instantly,  she 
feared.  He  said  no  word  at  all,  merely  motioned  to  her 
to  turn  back.  Priscilla  was  accustomed  to  dominate,  not 
to  domination,  but  she  saw  the  look  of  the  father  in  the 
stern  young  face  before  her.  Uncle  Will  she  knew  was 
the  mildest  of  men  in  his  dealings  with  women,  until 
fully  aroused.  Then  Uncle  Will  became  dangerous, 
and  looked  very  much  as  did  Sandy  now.  The  first 
question  as  he  practically  backed  her  into  the  little  army 
parlor  was,  "Is  mother  home?" 

Priscilla  looked  aloft.    "  In  her  room,"  she  said. 

"  Then  I  cannot — speak  to  you  now,"  said  Sandy. 
"  Colonel  Stone  has  called  me  to  account  for  one  of  the 


ACCUSING    LETTERS  111 

five  inclosures  to  this  paper.  Before  I  answer  we've  got 
to  have,  you  and  I,  a  clear  understanding,  and  before  we 
can  have  that  you  must  read  these,  and  think  over  what 
other  slanders  you  have  written." 

"  I  was  going  to  the  hospital,"  faltered  Priscilla. 
"  Sullivan's  worse — and  Blenke's  been  so  queer " 

"  The  hospital,  Sullivan,  and  Blenke  can  wait,"  said 
Sandy  firmly,  though  his  voice  was  shaking.  "  Colonel 
Stone  and  I  cannot.  I  shall  say  nothing  to  mother  of 
this  as  yet.  Be  ready  to  see  me  here  at  twelve  o'clock. 
Mother  will  not  be  home." 

So  saying,  and  leaving  in  her  hands  the  fateful  packet, 
Ray  turned  abruptly  and  left  the  house,  Priscilla  mount 
ing  slowly  to  her  room. 

It  still  lacked  an  hour  to  noon,  and  she  had  time  to 
read  and  to  think.  It  was  past  the  hour  at  which  Jimmy 
Dwight  generally  came  running  in  to  say  good-morning 
to  Aunt  Marion,  but  Jimmy  had  not  come.  Out  on  the 
sunlit  parade  a  dozen  garrison  boys  and  girls  were  in  the 
midst  of  a  shouting,  shrieking,  frolicsome  game  of 
"  Pull-Away,"  and  Jimmy,  usually  one  of  the  blithest 
and  merriest,  was  not  there.  Priscilla  had  noted  this 
when,  from  the  little  veranda  of  the  lieutenant's  quarters 
but  a  few  minutes  before,  she  had  been  disapprovingly 
watching  the  sport — it  was  so  uninstructive,  thought 
Priscilla.  She  could  not,  from  the  window  at  the  side, 
see  much  of  the  parade.  Over  against  it,  midway  along 
the  barrack  line  of  the  northeast  front,  she  could  see  the 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

Exchange  building,  could  see  Sandy  more  than  halfway 
across,  walking  even  more  swiftly,  stiffly,  than  ever. 
She  saw  the  few  loungers  and  convalescents,  sunning 
themselves  on  the  southern  benches,  rising  to  their  feet  at 
the  approach  of  the  young  officer.  She  could  hear  the 
tramp  of  the  two  battalions  and  the  majors'  ringing 
commands,  exercising,  one  on  the  plain  to  the  south  where 
Dwight's  squadron  disported  itself  before  breakfast,  the 
other  out  on  the  parade.  She  could  hear  faintly  the  fine 
band  of  the  infantry  practicing  at  the  assembly  room 
adjoining  the  Exchange.  From  the  open  window  of 
Sandy's  room,  across  the  hall,  she  could  have  seen  the 
deserted  veranda  of  the  officers'  club.  Half  an  hour 
hence  it  would  be  swarming  with  thirsty  and  perspiring 
gentlemen  in  khaki  just  in  from  a  lively  drill.  She  felt 
rather  than  saw  what  was  said  in  that  relentless  paper  on 
her  dressing  table,  and  she  shrank  from  the  opening  and 
reading.  Sandy's  face  had  told  her  what  to  expect. 
Sandy's  tongue  had  spoken  of  slanders — slanders  that 
well  she  realized,  like  curses,  had  come  home  to  roost. 
She  could  not  say,,  even  to  herself,  that  what  she  had 
written  was  never  meant  for  public  eyes.  She  had  hoped 
— she  had  meant — it  should  be  published,  and  that  all  good 
Christian  men  and  women,  readers  of  the  Banner  of 
Light,  should  approve  and  applaud  her  righteous  efforts 
in  behalf  of  so  great  and  glorious  a  cause.  But  it  had 
not  occurred  to  her  that  the  Banner  would  ever  find  its 
way  tc  so  godless  a  community  as  this  at  Minneconjou — 


ACCUSING    LETTERS  113 

where  her  statements  might  be  challenged.  She  was 
stunned,  temporarily,  by  this  most  unlooked-for  catas 
trophe.  Uncle  Will  and  Aunt  Marion  had  been  her  best 
friends  and  benefactors,  and,  even  though  duty  demanded 
that  she  should  make  clear  to  them  how  deeply  they  erred 
in  their  attitude  on  so  vital  a  question  as  that  of  the 
Canteen,  she  knew,  and  well  knew,  that  what  she  had  writ 
ten  in  the  enthusiasm  of  her  faith,  the  intensity  of  her 
zeal,  was  far  from  warrantable  by  the  cold  facts  in  the 
case.  She  followed  Sandy  with  her  eyes  as  he  neared  the 
veranda, — saw  the  hands  of  the  half  dozen  men  go  up  in 
salute, — saw  him  suddenly  turn  and,  facing  west,  salute 
in  turn,  and  then  the  colonel  marched  into  her  field  of 
vision,  and  the  veteran  of  the  Civil  War  and  the  subaltern 
of  a  few  skirmishes  stood  a  moment  in  conference,  then 
strode  away  together  toward  the  townward  gate  and  the 
"  auxiliary  "  guard-house,  the  orderly  following  after. 

And  then  she  heard  her  aunt's  voice  at  her  door. 

"  Have  you  seen  anything  of  Jimmy  this  morning, 
'Cilia?  It's  strange  he  has  not  come,"  and  then  cook 
from  the  kitchen  appeared  at  the  landing.  "  That  young 
man,  mum,  Mr.  Blenke,  would  like  to  speak  with  Miss 
Sanford  a  minute."  And,  leaving  the  papers  on  her 
bureau,  glad  of  a  respite,  Priscilla  hastened  down. 

Blenke's  big  mournful  brown  eyes  had  of  late  been 
darker  than  ever,  and  dark  circles  had  sunk  in  beneath 
them.  Blenke's  sallow  face  had  taken  on  an  even  sal- 
lower  hue.  "  Nothing  but  indigestion  and  lack  of  exer- 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

cise,"  said  the  junior  doctor,  of  whom  Priscilla  had  made 
inquiries.  "  The  man  spends  his  leisure  hours  moping 
or  mooning  around  by  himself.  He  ought  to  be  made  to 
play  ball,  tennis,  spar,  ride,  wrestle,  or  something.  He's 
a  day-dreamer — maybe  a  pipe-dreamer,"  hazarded  he,  in 
conclusion,  with  a  queer  look  at  Priscilla,  who  had  flushed 
indignantly  at  the  insinuation.  Blenke  had  sorrowfully 
and  virtuously  repelled  that  insinuation  the  moment  she 
brought  it  to  his  attention,  but  circumstances  had  been 
combining  to  make  her  uneasy  about  her  paragon.  If 
not  a  "  pipe-dreamer,"  Blenke  was  becoming  odd  and 
nervous,  queer,  and  twitchy.  To-day  he  came  with  a 
plea  she  had  never  heard  him  make  before.  Blenke,  who 
never  drank,  gambled,  smoked,  swore,  or  otherwise  mis 
conducted  himself,  had  come  to  tell  Miss  Sanford  in  the 
best  of  language  that  he  had  urgent  need  of  ten  dollars 
and  two  days'  pass.  The  pass  his  captain  had  signed  on 
the  spot,  but  he  would  n't  stand  for  the  ten  dollars. 
Blenke  would  tell  Miss  Sanford  all  about  it  on  his  return, 
but  now  there  was  not  a  moment  to  lose  unless  he  lose 
also  the  train  to  Rapid  City.  Would  Miss  Sanford  help 
him? 

Priscilla  had  but  ten  dollars  to  her  name,  but  swiftly 
she  sped  upstairs  to  get  it.  The  bugle  was  sounding  the 
recall  from  drill  as  she  entered  her  little  room,  unlocked 
an  upper  drawer  of  the  dressing-table,  and  found  the  two 
bills  in  her  slender  portcmonnaie.  The  batch  of  official 
papers,  with  the  portentous,  red  ink-lined,  third  indorse- 


ACCUSING    LETTERS  115 

ment  uppermost,  still  stared  at  her  from  the  prim,  white- 
covered  top,  and  impatiently  she  thrust  it  into  the  shal 
low  pocket  of  the  summer  skirt  and  hastened  away 
downstairs.  Blenke's  eyes  were  eloquent  with  subdued 
sadness,  mystery,  and  gratitude  as  he  received  the  money 
and  turned  away.  The  children  out  in  front  on  the 
parade,  with  shrill  shouting  and  laughter,  had  just  gone 
racing  away  toward  the  eastward  gate,  and  as  their 
clamor  died  in  the  distance  Priscilla's  quick  ear  caught 
the  sound  of  sobbing  and  a  piteous  wail  for  help. 

Ever  sympathetic  with  those  in  distress,  she  hurried 
through  the  hallway,  out  through  the  gate  and  there, 
crouched  at  the  foot  of  the  little  shade  tree  at  the  edge 
of  the  parade,  with  blood  streaming  through  the  clutching 
fingers  from  a  slashing  cut  at  the  edge  of  the  left  eye, 
was  little  George  Thornton,  son  of  a  junior  officer  of 
infantry.  Priscilla  in  an  instant  was  bending  over  him. 

"  What  is  it,  Georgie,  dear?  Oh,  how  did  you  get  so 
cruel  a  hurt?  " 

Sobs  and  screams  were  at  first  the  only  answer. 
Clasping  her  kerchief  to  the  wound  with  her  right  hand, 
and  leading  the  little  fellow,  half  running,  with  the  left, 
she  guided  him  homeward,  where  presently  a  badly 
frightened  brace  of  women,  mother  and  housemaid, 
busily  hindered  her  skilled  fingers  in  bathing  and  ban 
daging  the  cut.  It  was  not  long  before  the  bleeding  was 
stanched,  the  patient  soothed  and  comforted  and  the  maid 
had  gone  for  the  doctor.  Meanwhile  the  mother,  too, 


116  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

had  made  her  demand,  "  Who — who  could  have  done 
this  ? "  And  to  every  such  query  there  was  but  one 
answer,  "  Jimmy  Dwight." 

"  Surely  not  on  purpose !  "  ventured  Priscilla,  in  the 
interest  of  peace,  truth,  and  justice,  only  to  receive  with 
vehement  emphasis  the  to-be-expected  answer  of  the 
stung,  angered,  and  irresponsible  child. 

"  He  did,  I  tell  you !  We  were  racin',  an' — an'  when  I 
was  gettin'  past  him,  he  just  whacked  me  with  all  his 
might." 

The  boys  had  all  disappeared,  when  presently  Priscilla 
again  came  forth,  homeward  bound.  They  had  swarmed 
over  to  the  stables,  where  some  troop  horses  had  broken 
away  from  their  herd,  and  were  having  a  hilarious  time 
of  it,  but  one  or  two  little  girls  were  slowly  returning, 
and  to  the  foremost  of  these  Priscilla  addressed  herself 
for  information.  Was  Jimmy  Dwight  with  the  other 
boys?  Yes,  he  had  only  come  out  a  few  minutes  ago. 
Had  they  seen  how  Georgie  Thornton  was  hurt?  They 
had  not.  They  had  started  with  the  foremost,  and 
George  and  Jimmy  had  run  back  after  a  ball,  and  so  got 
behind.  But  presently  came  Kitty  Blair,  and  Kitty  had 
seen.  Tiring  of  the  chase  she  had  dropped  out  as  the 
last  boys  went  bounding  by  her,  and  Jimmy  Dwight  was 
swinging  his  jacket,  and  he  just  slashed  Georgie  Thorn 
ton  right  in  the  face  with  it.  Yes,  she  was  sure.  Millie 
Cross  had  seen  it,  too,  and  had  run  home  to  tell  her 
mother. 


ACCUSING    LETTERS  117 

Thoughtfully,  with  downcast  eyes,  Priscilla  retraced 
her  steps.  Orderly  and  mess  call  were  sounding  now, 
and  with  a  start  she  remembered  that  this  was  the  mo 
ment  set  by  Sandy  for  her  explanation  as  to  the  clipping, 
and,  glancing  up  in  sudden  fright,  she  found  standing  at 
the  doorway,  the  accusing  papers  in  hand,  noHier  cousin, 
but  her  cousin's  mother,  her  hostess  and  her  benefactress 
— Marion  Ray. 


CHAPTER   IX 

AN   INVITATION — TO   GO 

BETWEEN  early  morning  drills  and  the  fact  that 
Jimmy  was  now  quite  big  and  old  enough  to  look 
after  himself,  the  father's  supervision  of  the  morn 
ing  tub,  rub,  and  toilet  had  ceased,  and  there  was 
but  time  for  a  hug  and  a  word  before  the  major  swal 
lowed  his  solitary  cup  of  coffee,  swung  into  saddle,  and 
trotted  away.  On  this  eventful  morning  he  had  kept  his 
men  at  their  work  rather  longer  than  usual  and  to  no 
good  purpose.  In  common  with  the  rest  of  the  garrison, 
Dwight  had  heard  the  fate  of  the  Canteen,  and  heard  it 
without  remark.  An  abstemious  man,  he  preferred  that 
others  should  be  the  same,  but  other  far  more  pressing 
matters  were  uppermost  in  his  mind;  matters  here  at 
Minneconjou — matters  in  far-away  Mexico,  where  an 
importunate  father-in-law,  after  making  ducks  and 
drakes  of  the  thousands  liberally  supplied  him,  was  now 
demanding  more,  or  "  all  would  be  lost."  Then  it  tran 
spired  that  a  lawyer  in  town  had  been  retained,  by  cer 
tain  of  that  father-in-law's  creditors,  to  press  Major 
Dwight  for  payment  of  the  same,  or  with  evidence  of 
fraudulent  doings  on  part  of  Mr.  Farrell.  To  meet  this 
lawyer,  Dwight  had  ridden  to  town  right  after  drill,  and 

118 


AN    INVITATION— TO    GO  119 

up  to  noon  had  not  returned.  Foster  and  Mrs.  Dwight, 
driving  thither  in  the  pretty  phaeton,  with  the  pygmy 
tiger,  were  surprised,  possibly  disconcerted — to  see  his 
orderly  with  the  two  horses  patiently  waiting  in  front  of 
the  office.  Possibly  that  had  something  to  do  with  their 
return  soon  after  twelve  o'clock.  Possibly  there  was 
design  in  Foster's  selection  of  that  hour  of  the  day  to 
visit  the  office  of  the  post  Exchange,  still  in  active  opera 
tion  along  all  its  accustomed  lines,  awaiting  official  orders, 
so  far  as  comforting  fluids  were  concerned,  to  close.  At 
all  events,  there  were  no  witnesses  to  a  scene, — and  but 
few  to  certain  very  audible  words, — that  became  memor 
able  in  the  chronicles  of  Fort  Minneconjou  from  that  day 
forth. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Priscilla  saw  the  meeting 
between  the  post  commander  and  his  Exchange  officer, 
and  their  move  in  company  toward  the  townward  gate. 
But  at  that  distance  it  was  not  to  be  expected  that  she 
could  see  the  deep  concern  in  the  colonel's  face  or  hear 
anything  of  the  conversation  that  passed  between  them. 
It  was  barely  an  hour  since  their  brief  interview  at  the 
office.  The  colonel  then  looked  solemn  enough,  but  now 
the  concern  and  smoldering  wrath  in  his  deep-set  eyes 
exceeded  anything  his  adjutant  had  ever  seen  or  that 
Sandy  Ray  deemed  possible  in  a  soldier  usually  so  placid 
and  philosophical. 

"  Come  with  me,  Mr.  Ray,"  said  Stone,  in  the  hearing 
of  the  listening  men.  "  There's  a  matter  I  want  to  talk 


120  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

over."  Then,  once  fairly  out  of  earshot,  and  after  a 
glance  to  see  that  his  orderly  was  well  to  the  rear, 
"  Sandy,  were  you  at  your  office  yesterday  morning?" 

"  No,  sir ;  I  was  at  church." 

"  Ah,  yes.  I  should  have  known.  I  used  to  go,  too, 
while  I  had  a  mother,"  sighed  the  colonel.  "  But  that 
was  very  long  ago."  Then,  with  sudden  energy,  "  You 
would  n't  know  whether — er — Captain  Foster  had  been 
over  here  at  the  Exchange — writing  letters?  Ah — er — 
who  would  ?  " 

"  Sergeant  Bates,  sir,  probably." 

"  It's  a  bit  of  business  I  don't  like,  Sandy.  Nobody 
but  my  adjutant  knows,  though  some  may  guess,  and 
I'm  going  to  tell  you  because " 

"  I  wish  you  would  n't,  sir.  I — own  I  don't  like  Cap 
tain  Foster/'  was  the  blunt  interruption. 

"  I've  got  to,  lad,  for  I.  may  have  to  act !  But  it  wTas 
your  father  who  spake  there,  and  you  have  known  Foster 
longer  and  perhaps  better  than  any  man  here — Major 
Dwight  possibly  excepted.  There  are  reasons  why  .1 
can't  ask  Dwight." 

"  Then,  Colonel,"  and  with  face  still  graver  the  young 
officer  turned  appealingly  to  his  commander,  "  all  the 
more  I  ask  you — don't  ask  me." 

"  See  here,  Ray,"  said  the  colonel,  halting  short.  "  No, 
keep  back,  orderly,  I  don't  want  you !  "  he  added  with 
impatient  wave  of  the  hand.  "  There's  a  piece  of  devil 
ment  going  on  at  this  post  that  it's  my  business  to  stop 


AN    INVITATION—TO    GO 

before  it  gets  too  late.  Pray  God  it  is  n't  too  late  yet! 
That  man  has  no  business  here  as  Dwight's  guest.  He 
has  no  business  here  at  all.  He  is  n't  straight.  He  tells 
everybody  he  can't  imagine  where  his  orders  have  gone, 
and  that  he's  been  wiring  everywhere  to  find  them. 
This  morning  I  find  that  he's  lying.  Yesterday  he  left 
Dwight's  house  to  write  letters  at  the  Club,  as  he  said, 
and  send  more  dispatches.  He  stayed  there  only  about 
fifteen  minutes,  until  church  was  fairly  started.  Then 
he  said  he  wanted  some  keg  beer  which  can't  be  had  at 
the  Club,  and  so  he  left,  saying  he'd  go  to  the  Canteen 
and  finish  the  beer  and  his  letters  at  your  desk.  That's 
almost  the  last  they  saw  of  him,  but  before  eleven  he 
went  through  the  east  gate  and  down  to  old  Sergeant 
Sweeny's  on  the  south  flats.  Sweeny  served  with  him 
seven  years  ago,  and  he's  laid  up  with  rheumatism.  The 
second  relief  started  just  at  eleven,  and  the  first  problem 
the  recruit  on  No.  4  had  to  deal  with,  before  the  relief 
that  left  him  was  fairly  out  of  sight,  was  what  to  do  with 
a  gentleman,  in  civilian  dress  who  was  crossing  his  post. 
The  sentry  stopped  him,  and  the  stranger  said :  '  I'm 
Captain  Foster,  staying  at  Major  Dwight's,'  and  went  on 
in  the  back  way.  If  Sweeny  confirms  this  story  I  shall 
send  for  Captain  Foster  and — until  this  is  settled  never 
mind  about  that  other  matter.  Er — have  you  seen  Miss 
Sanford?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Ray,  half  choking,  "  and — she 
was  to  answer  me  fully  at  twelve  o'clock." 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

"  Well — er — I  may  be  able  to  see  Sergeant  Bates  and 
perhaps  you  again.  I  won't  take  you  farther.  Wait  for 
me  at  your  desk,  will  you  ?  " 

A  distant  horseman,  trotting  swiftly  homeward, 
splashed  through  the  ford  at  the  moment;  but  long 
before  he  reached  the  gate  the  colonel  had  gone  on 
through  upon  his  regular  daily  tramp,  making  the  rounds 
of  the  big.  wide-spreading  post.  The  young  officer, 
silent  and  pale,  had  gone  back  to  his  office.  The  sentry 
at  the  gate  presented  arms  as  the  tall  haggard-looking 
rider  came  trotting  in,  sitting  very  erect  and  squarely 
down  in  the  saddle.  At  the  parting  of  the  roads  he  sud 
denly  reined  in  and  dismounted.  "  Take  him  to  the 
stables  and  get  your  dinner,  Gribble,"  said  he  to  the 
trumpeter  boy.  "I  shall  not' ride  again  to-day."  Then, 
with  grave,  anxious,  downcast  face,  went  striding  up  the 
southward  line  to  his  quarters  at  the  farther  end — the 
quarters  that  had  been  the  Rays'. 

On  the  gallery  of  Lieutenant  Thornton's  were  two  or 
three  young  army  wives  and  mothers,  who  ceased  chat 
ting  and  somewhat  curiously  studied  the  coming  officer. 
In  brief,  absent-minded  fashion  he  lifted  his  cap  and 
passed  them  by.  Young  Dr.  Wallen  was  just  coming 
forth  and  calling  cheerily  to  them.  "  Oh,  he'll  do  very 
nicely  now.  Miss  Sanford  handled  him  admirably ; " 
then,  "  Oh,  beg  a  thousand  pardons,  Major,"  as  he 
bumped  sideways  into  the  tall  soldier  passing  by. 

"  Who's  hurt?"  asked  Dwight  with  scant  interest. 


AN    INVITATION— TO    GO 

"  Why — er — Georgie  Thornton  got  a  little — er — gash 
playing.  His  mother  was  scared  a  bit,  and  I  was  coming 
that  way  and  she  called  me  in.  The  eye  is  n't  injured." 

"  Why— how'd  it  happen?  " 

"  Oh,  er — well,  I  don't  know,  exactly,"  answered 
Wallen,  in  deep  confusion.  "  Some  boy  scrap — mishap — 
accident,  probably,  and — er — good-day,"  he  finished 
lamely,  as  he  darted  off. 

Queer,  thought  D wight.  Is  everybody  seeking  to 
avoid  me?  He  only  vaguely  heard,  and  for  the  moment 
gave  little  heed  to,  the  angry  words  that  followed  him 
from  the  open  doorway.  "  Ask  your  boy  how  it  hap 
pened,  Major  Dwight,"  for  the  mother  was  suffering 
still,  and  some  natures,  suffering,  will  spit  and  scratch. 
Not  then,  but  just  a  little  later,  as  Jimmy  came  bounding 
gladly  to  meet  him  and  to  seize  his  hand,  did  Dwight 
remember  Mrs.  Thornton's  words,  and  looking  down  into 
the  joyous,  beaming,  flushing  face,  with  the  big,  wide- 
open,  violet  eyes,  the  father  questioned: 

"  What's  this  about  Georgie  Thornton  ?  How  was  he 
cut?" 

"  Georgie?  Cut?  Why,  daddy,  I  did  n't  know  it.  Is 
he  hurt?" 

"  You  don't,  Jim  ?  Why,  they  told  me  to  ask  you,  as 
though  you  would  know.  Were  n't  you  with  him  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  daddy.  I — I  got  out  late,"  and  here  the 
young  face  began  to  cloud.  "  And  then — such  fun !  " 
and  the  laughter  once  more  came  bubbling  joyously  from 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

his  happy  heart.  "  Some  '  B  '  Troop  horses  got  loose, 
and  we  all  ran  to  see  the  round-up,  and  we  were  hinder- 
most  at  the  start,  Georgie  and  I,  but  7  caught  'em,  and 
got  there  with  the  foremost,  an'  I  guess  he  got  tired  and 
went  home  because  we  ran  away  from  him,  really." 

But  already  the  father's  attention  was  diverted.  His 
eyes  were  following  Stanley  Foster,  who,  dancing  lightly 
down  the  steps,  waved  his  hand  with  exuberant  cordiality 
to  the  pair  as  he  crossed  the  road  and  struck  out  over  the 
parade. 

"  When  that  fellow  begins  putting  his  hand  on  my 
shoulder  or  patting  my  back  or  calling  me  old  chap  I 
know  he's  playing  to  '  do '  me  some  way,"  once  said  a 
brother  officer  of  Foster's,  and  Sandy  Ray  was  thinking 
of  it  when  three  minutes  later  Foster  came  bounding 
breezily  in,  confidence,  cordiality,  and  jovial  good-fellow 
ship  beaming  from  his  well-groomed  visage : 

"  Sandy,  old  boy,  lend  me  a  horse  this  afternoon,  will 
you?" 

Ray  was  alone  at  his  desk.  The  bare  little  army  office, 
with  its  few  maps  and  ornamental  calendars  adorning 
the  unpapered  walls,  its  barrack-built  table  and  chairs, 
its  stacks  of  letter-files,  boxes  and  tins  of  samples,  was 
an  uninviting  place  at  best,  yet  had  never  hitherto  ap 
peared  inhospitable.  Even  under  the  management  of  the 
still  half-crippled  cavalryman,  himself  an  abstainer  from 
the  cup  that  sometimes  cheers,  and  a  partaker  of  a  cup 
that  always  saddens,  there  had  ever  been  frank  and  cor- 


AN    INVITATION— TO    GO 

dial  greeting  for  visiting  comrades,  followed  usually  by 
invitation  to  taste  the  good  cheer  of  the  Canteen  and 
suggest,  if  possible,  additional  improvement.  But  it  was 
a  lack-luster  eye  that  turned  on  the  entering  officer  this 
day.  Sergeant  Bates  had  but  just  left  the  room  after 
having,  in  answer  to  question,  briefly  stated  that  no  one 
but  Captain  Foster  had  visited  the  lieutenant's  office  dur 
ing  church  time  Sunday.  The  captain  had  merely  tasted 
the  beer,  glanced  about  him,  and  then  departed.  No,  not 
the  way  he  came,  the  parade  side.  The  captain  had 
looked  into  the  reading-room  and  through  the  billiard- 
room,  which  latter  was  closed  on  account  of  the  day,  and 
had  strolled  out  through  the  rear  doorway,  a  short  cut 
to  the  east  gate.  That,  then,  seemed  to  complete  the 
chain  of  evidence  described  by  the  colonel,  and  the  heart 
of  Sandy  Ray  was  seething  when  Foster  bustled  in,  while 
his  voice,  when  presently  there  came  reply,  was  as  icily 
cold.  All  the  same  he  turned  in  his  revolving  chair  and 
looked  his  visitor  straight  in  the  eye,  as  he  arose. 

"What  do  you  want  him  for?" 

Foster  flushed.  He  read  unerringly  the  intense  dis 
like  in  the  young  officer's  gaze,  but  he  dissembled: 

"  To  ride,  'bout  four  o'clock,"  was  the  matter-of-course 
reply. 

"  Major  Dwight  said  both  his  horses  were  at  your  dis 
posal.  He's  only  had  one  out  to-day.  Is  Mrs.  Dwight 
going  to  ride  the  other?" 

Foster's  eyelids  shut  to  a  narrow  slit.     His  mustache 


126  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

began  to  bristle  at  the  ends.  Now  the  red  was  flitting 
and  his  face  was  turning  sallow. 

"  While  I  consider  that  none  of  your  business,  Mr. 
Ray— yes !  " 

"  Then,"  said  Sandy,  his  cheek  white,  his  lips  set,  his 
eyes  aflame,  "  you  can't  have  mine." 

The  low  hum  of  voices,  the  gurgle  of  laughter  drifting 
through  the  stove-pipe  hole  and  through  the  crevices  of 
the  pine  partition  from  the  lounging-room  beyond,  seemed 
to  die  away  almost  at  the  moment.  Ray  had  hardly 
uplifted  his  voice.  For  an  instant  a  silence  fell  on  the 
facing  pair  in  the  Exchange  office — the  one  rather  tall, 
fair,  stylishly  garbed  in  the  latest  civilian  fashion;  the 
other  short,  slender,  trimly  built,  with  dark  curling  hair 
and  snapping  black-brown  eyes ;  both  men  trembling  now, 
but  neither  dropping  an  eyelid.  Then  with  clinching  fist 
and  fiery  eyes  the  elder  took  a  step  forward.  He  was 
throwing  off  the  mask.  He  was  speaking  angrily, 
audibly : 

"  By  Heaven,  Ray,  if  I  did  n't  happen  to  know  that  you 
are,  or  had  been,  madly  in  love  with  Mrs.  Dwight,  I — I'd 
consider  that  an  insult." 

"  Well,"  came  the  ready  response,  "  why  not  so  con 
sider  it — anyhow  ?  " 

In  an  instant  the  larger,  heavier,  stronger  man  had 
hurled  himself  on  the  slender  junior  and,  one  sinewy  hand 
on  the  back  of  the  neck,  the  other  at  the  throat,  Foster 
shook  him  furiously — but  only  for  a  second.  No  sooner 


AN    INVITATION— TO    GO  127 

did  Ray  feel  himself  seized  than  he  "  let  go  "  with  both 
fists,  and  both  fists  found  their  mark  on  Foster's  face — 
one  swing,  the  right,  stinging  him  on  the  unguarded  jaw. 
Two  more  followed  in  the  flash  of  a  second,  and  Foster, 
stunned  and  amazed,  dropped  his  hold  and  for  a  second 
recoiled.  In  blind  fury  the  next  moment  he  rushed  again, 
Ray  springing  lightly  aside,  whirling  and  sending  his 
right  with  electric  snap  square  to  the  already  smarting 
jowl — a  blow  that  staggered  yet  did  not  fell  the  stronger 
man,  the  man  who  even  in  his  rage  managed  partially, 
at  least,  to  recover  his  wits,  for  as  he  straightened  up  he 
held  forth  protesting  hand  and  panted :  "  Stop !  Not 
now.  They  hear  us,  and  by  the  God  that  made  me  you'll 
hear  from  me.  You  dare  to  strike — your  superior 
officer!" 

"  Superior  be  damned !  "  shouted  Ray,  raging  for  bat 
tle  and  reckless  of  consequence.  "  You  rank  me  two 
grades  on  the  roster,  but  you're  miles  behind  as  a  man. 
Come  again,  if  you  dare,  you  cad ! "  And  like  a  young 
bantam  the  army-bred  lad  was  dancing  eagerly  about,  for 
getful  of  his  lameness  and  watching  like  a  cat  his  bulky 
antagonist. 

"  Not  here,  I  say,  nor  with  blackguard  weapons  you 
seem  to  know  how  to  handle;  but — next  time  we  meet, 
young  man — next  time  !  " 

"  Next  time,  this  time,  any  time !  "  shouted  Ray.  "  And 
mind  you,  you  villain,  make  your  will  before  you  meet 
me !  " 


128  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

"  And  meantime,  Captain  Foster,"  came  the  stern  com 
manding  words  from  the  threshold,  where  suddenly 
stood  the  colonel,  "pack  your  belongings  and  quit  the 
post.  There,  sir,"  and  significantly  he  shook  an  open 
telegram,  "  there,  sir,  are  your  orders." 


CHAPTER  X 

A  GATHERING  STORM 

MINNECONJOU  that  afternoon  was  the  vortex 
of  a  revolving  storm  of  sensation,  speculation, 
and  excitement.  The  few  men  at  the  Club 
spoke  with  bated  breath  and  shrugging  shoulders, 
with  hands  thrust  deep  in  side  pockets  and  with 
occasional  semi-hysterical  giggle.  Men  at  the  Canteen 
retailed  in  whispers,  and  with  possibly  unconscious  edi- 
torialisms  of  their  own,  the  story  of  the  encounter  at  the 
office  as  heard  through  the  partition  in  their  own  premises. 
Women  along  the  line  of  officers'  quarters  and  women 
among  the  humbler  homes  of  the  married  soldiers  went 
flitting  from  door  to  door  gathering  in  wide-eyed,  gos 
siping  groups, 

"For  the  colonel's  lady  and  Judy  O'Grady 
Are  sisters  under  their  skins." 

There  were  three  women,  however,  prominent  in  this 
chronicle  and  others  not  individually  mentioned,  who 
kept  within  doors  and  bounds  until  the  sun  was  well  down 
behind  the  Sagamore  and  the  line  was  formed  for  parade. 
Even  then  Mrs.  Dwight  did  not  appear,  but  Mrs.  Ray 
sat  for  a  while  with  Sandy  on  the  little  veranda,  and  a  very 

129 


130  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

red-eyed  Priscilla  went  forth,  as  she  said,  for  needed 
exercise.  Just  what  had  passed  between  her  aunt  and 
herself  was  never  referred  to  outside  of  the  family.  Mrs. 
Ray,  it  seems,  had  also  heard  the  childish  wail  of  distress, 
had  come  down  to  inquire  the  cause,  but  not  until  Pris 
cilla  had  succeeded  in  leading  the  little  sufferer  home. 
Then  in  the  hall,  probably,  Marion  had  picked  up  the 
official  batch  of  papers ;  thought  it  something  of  Sandy's, 
for  open  official  wrappers  of  newspaper  clippings  are  not 
privileged  communications  and  he  who  runs  upon  them 
may  read.  Presumably  Mrs.  Ray  had  read,  and,  if  so,  the 
meekest,  mildest  of  women  in  her  place  would  have  had  a 
rod  in  pickle  for  Priscilla  when  that  energetic  maiden 
returned.  It  had  at  least  one  point  in  favor  of  Sandy. 
It  relieved  him  from  the  necessity  of  "  interviewing  "  his 
cousin.  But  for  the  life  of  him  Sandy  Ray  could  not  be 
kind  or  cordial  to  Priscilla  for  many  a  day.  She  wrote 
to  him,  at  her  aunt's  demand,  a  letter  to  be  shown  to  the 
.colonel  commanding,  and  a  portion  of  this  letter  appeared 
in  his  returned  indorsement.  She  admitted  that  the  only 
instance  of  officers  "  carousing  "  with  and  tempting  the 
men  to  drink  was  when  Uncle  Will  took  her  to  see  tlie 
Canteen  and  sipped  his  glass  of  Rhenish  when  the  ser 
geants  drank  his  health.  "  But,"  was  the  ingenuous  argu 
ment,  "  if  Uncle  Will,  who  is  so  abstemious  and  conscien 
tious,  could  do  that  much,  I  naturally  reasoned  that  others 
whom  I  knew  to  be  neither  abstemious  nor,  in  such  mat 
ters,  conscientious,  would  do  infinitely  more,  and  there- 


A    GATHERING    STORM  131 

fore  considered  my  statement  justifiable  in  view  of  the 
vital  importance  of  the  matter  under  discussion."  As  to 
the  other  points  in  her  allegation,  Priscilla  had  no  better 
or  broader  foundation.  It  was  one  of  those  instances  of 
"justifiable  vericide"  wherein  many  a  worthy  woman, 
and  man,  has  soothed  a  protesting  conscience  with  "  the 
end  justifies  the  means." 

But  Priscilla  had  to  promise  also  to  write  full  confes 
sion  to  the  Banner  of  Light,  and  it  was  sent  registered. 
Aunt  Marion  saw  to  that;  and  duly  received  but  never, 
even  in  part,  was  it  published — that  would  be  doing 
violence  to  editorial  ethics. 

At  three  o'clock  that  afternoon  the  colonel's  adjutant 
had  called  ceremoniously  at  the  quarters  of  Major 
Dwight,  and  at  four  o'clock  the  colonel's  ambulance  had 
followed.  Half  a  thousand  eyes,  probably,  followed  that 
official  vehicle  as  it  whirled  away  townward,  a  raging 
captain  of  cavalry  being  the  sole  occupant  of  the  interior, 
the  driver  and  an  orderly  conversing  in  low  tones  at  the 
front.  Major  Dwight  had  come  forth  with  his  guest, 
escorted  him  down  the  steps  to  the  waiting  wagon,  had 
ostentatiously  shaken  hands  with  him  twice — thrice;  had 
even  held  him  in  conversation  as  though  reluctant  to 
part,  and  had  then  gone  stalking  over  to  the  colonel's 
quarters  with  twitching  lips  and  fingers  to  demand  an 
explanation  of  this  summary  expulsion  of  his  guest.  If 
Captain  Foster  was  to  be  ordered  off  the  post  because  of 
a  personal  encounter  with  Lieutenant  Ray,  what  was  to 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

be  done  with  Mr.  Ray?  was  what  the  major  wished  to 
know,  and  Colonel  Stone,  instead  of  snubbing,  censuring 
or  sending  him  back  in  arrest,  went  halfway  down  the 
steps  to  meet  him,  took  him  by  the  hand  and  said,  "  I've 
been  expecting  you,  major,  and  have  much  to  tell  you," 
beckoned  the  adjutant  to  follow  and  led  on  into  an  inner 
room.  The  post  surgeon  was  also  there,  by  invitation. 

"  Major  Dwight,"  said  Stone,  "  I  have  asked  these 
gentlemen  to  be  present  as  witnesses  to  what  I  have  to 
tell  you,  and  if  there's  any  man  of  your  own  corps  you'd 
like  to  have  present,  my  orderly  will  fetch  him  at  once. 
No?  Then  I'll  proceed.  I  assume  you  wish  to  know 
why  Captain  Foster  was  formally  invited  to  proceed  on 
his  way  this  afternoon.  You  fancy,  I  believe,  and  he 
possibly — probably — told  you,  it  was  for  attacking  Lieu 
tenant  Ray  at  the  Canteen.  It  was  not.  There  are 
several  reasons,  and  the  moment  I  have  told  you  enough 
I  wish  you  to  say  stop.  I  do  not  like  your  fr — your 
guest,  but  I  desire  to  say  no  more  at  his  expense  than 
may  be  absolutely  necessary.  Do  you  understand  ?  " 

Dwight  bowed  gravely.  "  I  think  I  do,  sir,"  was  his 
answer,  and  the  party  settled  into  chairs  and  for  the 
moment  into  silence. 

Then  Stone  began  again : 

"  When  Captain  Foster  arrived  here  he  took  occasion 
to  tell  me  he  had  just  dropped  in  for  a  day  or  two — that 
he  was  expecting  his  orders  any  moment.  Connor,  lieu 
tenant-colonel  commanding  the  — th,  is  a  classmate  of 


A    GATHERING    STORM  133 

mine,  and  in  writing  me  two  weeks  ago  he  spoke  of  the 
shortage  of  officers.  He  said  that  Foster's  application 
for  a  month's  delay  had  been  negatived  by  him  and 
that  he  was  then  expecting  him  any  moment.  Thursday 
last  came  another  letter.  Short  as  he  was  of  officers, 
three  of  his  best  had  been  taken  away  for  court-martial 
duty.  Foster's  troop  was  commanded  by  a  sergeant,  and 
going  to  seed.  Foster  was  apparently  lost,  for  a  copy 
of  his  order  to  report  without  delay  had  been  there  a 
week.  His  adjutant  had  wired  to  Foster's  address  and 
got  no  answer.  That  evening,  as  it  happened,  I  met 
Foster  again,  and  he  went  out  of  his  way  to  tell  me  he 
could  n't  imagine  what  had  become  of  his  orders.  He 
had  left  directions  with  his  home  people  to  open  every 
thing  that  came  and  wire  him  here  at  once,  and  nothing 
had  come,  at  least  to  him.  This  was  queer.  Friday  he 
repeated  it.  That  afternoon  at  the  telegraph  office  in 
town  the  operator  asked  me  if  a  Captain  Foster  was  at 
the  post.  Three  messages  had  come  for  him,  two  calling 
for  reply,  and  he  had  sent  by  wire,  at  least,  no  answer. 
Two,  said  the  operator,  were  from  New  York,  saying 
important  orders  were  there,  and  what  should  they  do 
with  them?  Now,  I  don't  like  double  dealing,  Dwight. 
I  at  once  wired  Connor  that  his  lost  captain  was  found — 
here — claiming  to  be  without  orders.  Connor  probably 
wired  the  War  Department,  and  on  Monday  noon  came 
this."  Saying  which,  the  colonel  took  from  his  desk 
and  held  forth  a  telegram,  which  Dwight  solemnly  re- 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

ceived  and  read,  then  sat  one  moment  in  silence.  It 
was  from  the  War  Department,  Washington,  and  as 
follows : 

COMMANDING  OFFICER, 

Fort  Minneconjou. 
If  Captain  Stanley  Foster,  — th  Cavalry,  is  still  at  your  post 

notify  him  that  his  orders  were  sent  June  to  his  address, 

New  York  City.  Secwar  directs  that  he  proceed  at  once  to 
Fort  Wister  and  report  to  his  regimental  commander  for  duty. 
Acknowledge  receipt  and  report  action. 

"  Secwar "  being  the  official  telegraphic  abbreviation 
for  Secretary  of  War,  that  order  was  beyond  appeal. 
Without  a  word  Dwight  carefully  refolded  the  message, 
arose,  and  handed  it  to  the  post  commander.  Then, 
after  a  moment's  pause,  straightening  up,  he  spoke. 

"  I  have  been  wrong,  sir,  and  I — beg  your  pardon. 
I,  too,  had  been  led  to  suppose  he  was  awaiting  orders. 
Moreover,  he  led  me  to  suppose  his  virtual  expulsion 
was  due  to  his  resenting  insulting  language  from  Lieu 
tenant  Ray.  I — will  you? — have  I  your  permission,  sir, 
to  be  absent  from  parade  and  the  post  this  evening?" 

The  surgeon  bent  quickly  forward,  his  eyes  on  Stone. 
The  colonel  started,  faltered,  then,  pulling  himself  to 
gether,  arose,  once  more  extended  his  hand,  which 
Dwight  took  mechanically,  and  then,  after  a  moment's 
reflection,  spoke: 

"  Major  Dwight,  I  have  the  highest  respect  for  you 
as  a  soldier  and  as  a  man,  but  I  ask  you  to  withdraw 


A   GATHERING    STORM  135 

that  request.  Frankly,  sir,  it  is  my  desire  that  you  do 
not  quit  the  post — to-night." 

A  moment  later  when  the  door  had  closed  upon  the 
tall,  spare,  almost  angular  form,  the  colonel  mopped 
his  brow  and  said :  "  If  I  let  that  man  go  he'll  follow 
Foster  to  the  station  and  throttle  him — he  so  hates  a 
liar  and  a  lie." 

"  I  thought  Foster  got  away  in  time  for  the  Flyer," 
said  the  doctor,  after  a  pause.  He  had  been  intently 
watching  Dwight's  every  move  and  gesture. 

"  In  plenty  of  time,"  answered  the  colonel,  "  though 
he  planned  it  otherwise,  and  don't  know  it  even  now. 
He  was  scheming  to  miss  to-day's  Overland  and  so 
wait  until  to-morrow,  but  I  sent  the  adjutant,  with  a 
man  to  help  him  pack,  and  the  word  that  the  ambulance 
would  call  for  him  at  four.  He  could  decline  the  help, 
but  he  could  n't  the  ambulance.  Now,  as  luck  would 
have  it,  they  wire  me  that  the  Flyer's  five  hours  late." 

"  If  that's  the  case  at  Valentine,"  said  the  adjutant, 
"  she'll  be  six  behind  by  the  time  she  strikes  Minne- 
conjou." 

"  Then,"  said  Dr.  Waring,  "  we  may  not  have  seen 
the  last  of  Stanley  Foster.  Is  Ray,  too,  confined  to  the 
post?" 

"  No,"  said  the  colonel,  "  I  had  n't  thought  about  that 
at  all." 


CHAPTER    XI 

DEEPER  IN   THE  TOILS 

DRESS  parade  went  off  that  evening  in  some 
what  perfunctory  fashion.  Even  the  alert  and 
soldierly  adjutant  had  a  preoccupied  air. 
Stone  rejoiced  in  his  three  battalions,  as  they  really 
were — the  cavalry  squadron  consisting,  like  the  infan 
try  units,  of  four  companies — and  ordinarily  loved  to 
hold  them  quite  a  while  at  the  manual,  and  later  for  the 
march  past.  This  evening  he  ordered  but  a  few  casual 
shifts  and  dispensed  entirely  with  the  review.  Almost 
every  piazza  had  its  little  group  of  spectators.  The 
walk  was  lined  with  visitors,  the  roadway  with  vehicles 
from  town,  and  Stone  had  never  seemed  to  notice  them. 
What  he  did  notice  was  that  Dwight,  standing  stark  and 
alone  in  front  of  the  center  of  his  squadron,  began 
swaying  before  the  sergeant's  reports  were  rendered,  and 
was  obviously  faint  and  ill.  It  was  on  his  account  en 
tirely  that  Stone  curtailed  the  stately  ceremony,  and 
thereby  disappointed  spectators.  He  took  the  major  by 
the  arm  and  walked  with  him  to  his  door  and  left  him 
there  with  promise  to  send  the  surgeon  without  delay. 
Dwight  declared  the  doctor  unnecessary,  but  thanked 
most  earnestly  his  commanding  officer.  A  pert  young 

136 


DEEPER    IN    THE    TOILS  137 

woman  in  cap  and  ribbons  met  them  at  the  threshold 
with  the  information  that  Madame  had  partaken  of  a 
tisane  and  begged  that  she  might  not  be  intruded  upon, 
as  it  was  Dr.  Wallen's  mandate  that  she  should  sleep, 
if  a  possible  thing.  Stone  looked  queerly,  sharply,  at 
her  and  turned  away.  The  major  made  no  reply  to  her 
remarks,  but  desired  that  Master  James  be  sent  to  him 
as  soon  as  he  returned.  It  seems  that  Jimmy  had  accom 
panied  Sergeant  French,  a  keen  angler,  to  a  trout  stream 
up  in  the  Sagamore  Range  early  in  the  afternoon.  It 
might  be  late  before  they  returned.  "  Lucky  thing, 
that !  "  thought  the  colonel,  as  he  hastened  homeward  to 
lay  aside  his  full  uniform,  the  orderly,  meantime,  speed 
ing  over  to  the  post  surgeon's. 

"  What  do  you  make  of  him  ?  "  asked  the  colonel,  an 
hour  later,  as  the  senior  medical  officer  came  lumbering 
up  the  steps. 

"  He  seems,  physically,  all  right  now/'  was  the  answer. 
"  There  is  no  functional  disorder.  He's  sound  as  a  dollar 
as  far  as  our  tests  can  determine,  but  Dwight  has  been 
under  a  strain,  as  we  know,  and  then — there's  that  Luzon 
sunstroke.  Any  time,  almost,  that  may  lead  to  such 
symptoms  as  you  noted  at  parade." 

"  Lucky  Dwight  is  n't  a  drinking  man,"  said  Stone 
grimly.  "  There  won't  be  any  more  Banner  of  Light 
descriptions  of  our  depravity  for  a  time,  anyhow;  but — 
fancy  the  story  that  would  make  in  expert  hands — and  a 
Prohibition  sheet.  God  grant  no  worse  scandal  come 


138  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

to  us,"  he  added  piously,  and  in  guarded  tone,  as  the 
surgeon  took  his  leave. 

It  was  barely  nine  o'clock  when,  some  garrison  callers 
having  departed,  Mrs.  Stone  picked  up  a  light  wrap 
and  said  she  believed  she  would  stroll  down  the  line  and 
see  Mrs.  Ray.  Everybody  by  this  time  had  heard  of  the 
fracas  at  the  office  of  the  post  Exchange  at  noonday, 
and  the  few  who  had  caught  sight  of  the  left  side  of 
Foster's  face  bore  testimony  to  the  fact  that  Sandy  Ray 
had  lost  little,  if  any,  of  one  science  he  picked  up  at 
the  Point.  Mrs.  Ray  would  surely  be  feeling  anxious 
and  distressed,  said  Mrs.  Stone,  even  though  everyone 
assured  her,  in  manner  if  not  in  words,  that  public  sym 
pathy  was  all  with  Sandy. 

"  I  believe  I'll  go,  too,"  said  Stone.  "  I'm  feeling 
woozy  to-night."  So,  arm  in  arm,  this  Darby  and  Joan 
of  the  frontier  betook  themselves  down  the  row,  past 
many  an  open  casement  and  doorway,  softly  lighted,  with 
whispering  couples  in  the  shadows  and  laughing,  chat 
ting  groups  upon  the  steps,  with  the  tinkle  of  mandolin 
and  guitar  to  mingle  with  the  soft  murmur  of  voices, 
despite  many  a  hospitable  bid  to  "  Come  and  join  us," 
the  couple  kept  sturdily  on  and  found,  just  as  they  ex 
pected,  that  other  sympathetic  souls  had  been  before 
them,  that  Mrs.  Ray  was  still  holding  quite  a  reception, 
Priscilla  and  Sandy  being  conspicuous  by  their  absence, 
Priscilla  having  retired  with  a  throbbing  headache, 
Sandy,  still  tingling  and  nervous,  having  sent  for  his 


DEEPER    IN    THE    TOILS  159 

horse  but  a  short  time  before  and  gone  for  a  ride.  They 
stayed  quite  a  while,  did  the  Stones,  and  Mrs.  Ray 
seemed  gladdened  and  comforted  by  their  coming.  It 
meant  so  much  just  then.  Indeed,  the  bugles  were 
sounding  the  ten  o'clock  call  when  finally  they  took 
their  leave,  and  Sandy  had  not  returned.  True,  he  had 
then  been  gone  little  over  an  hour,  and  he  could  ride 
but  slowly,  though  he  declared  he  had  neither  strained  a 
muscle  nor  started  anew  the  trouble  in  the  old  wound. 
Perhaps  it  was  too  soon  to  be  sure,  but  at  all  events  a 
ride,  a  gentle  amble  on  a  nimble,  easy  horse  over  the 
elastic  turf  in  the  soft,  summer  moonlight  would  soothe 
and  quiet  him  more  than  anything  else,  so,  wisely,  Marion 
had  interposed  no  objection. 

Taps  sounded  and  the  lights  were  lowered  in  the  bar 
racks  and  the  sentries  called  off  half-past  ten  o'clock, 
and  still  there  had  come  no  sign  of  the  westbound 
Flyer,  far  over  the  southward  waves  of  prairie,  slowly 
breasting  the  long  upgrade  to  the  Pass.  The  big  com 
pound  engine  of  the  Midland  Pacific  had  a  deep-toned, 
melodious,  flute-like  signal,  utterly  different  to  the  ear- 
piercing  shriek  of  the  old-fashioned  railway  whistle,  and 
on  still  evenings  the  sharp,  rhythmical  beat  of  the  ex 
haust,  the  steady  rumble  of  the  heavy  Pullmans,  and  the 
occasional  blast,  rich  and  mellow,  of  the  misnamed  whis 
tle  could  be  followed  westward  for  many  a  mile,  until 
at  last  the  echoes  of  the  signal  died  away  among  the 
cliffs  and  canons  of  the  frowning  Sagamore. 


140  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

Some  distance  out  across  the  rolling  prairie,  a  mile 
or  more  beyond  the  Minneconjou,  was  the  siding  of  a 
deserted  station,  once  built  there  by  the  quartermaster's 
department  with  the  idea  of  making  a  much  shorter  haul 
for  supplies  than  that  afforded  by  the  broad  and  fairly 
level  road  from  town.  The  wear  and  tear  on  mules,  har 
ness  and  running  gear  consequent  upon  the  up-hill  and 
down-dale  character  of  the  road,  and  the  unprecedented 
volume  of  blasphemy  supposedly  necessary  to  successful 
fording  of  the  Minneconjou,  within  earshot  of  the  pious- 
minded  at  the  post,  led  to  eventual  abandonment  of  that 
route  in  favor  of  the  far  longer  but  undeniably  safer  line 
to  Silver  Hill.  It  was  a  fine  sight  on  clear  evenings  to 
see  the  long  trail  of  electric  lights  gleaming  white  against 
the  darkness,  come  rounding  a  distant  bluff  to  the  east, 
and  then,  skirting  for  a  mile  or  so  the  south  bank  of 
the  Minneconjou,  go  alternately  burrowing  and  bridging 
the  prairie  divides  and  hollows  until  finally  lost  behind 
the  sharp  spur  known  as  Two-Mile  Ridge.  The  Flyer 
had  a  way  of  waiting  at  Omaha  for  the  last  of  the  express 
trains  of  five  great  railways  bringing  their  loads  from 
Chicago  and  St.  Louis,  all  scheduled  to  reach  Council 
Bluffs  about  the  same  hour,  and  some  one  or  more  of 
them  being  frequently  behind.  The  Midland  could  make 
up  no  time  between  the  Missouri  and  the  Minneconjou, 
so  light  was  the  roadbed,  so  heavy  the  traffic,  so  many 
the  stops.  It  was  not  until  beyond  the  Sagamore  the 
Flyer  began  to  deserve  its  name.  Due  at  Silver  Hill 


DEEPER    IN    THE    TOILS 

this  year  of  which  we  write  as  early  as  5  130,  the  Flyer 
not  infrequently  stopped  for  supper  as  late  as  eleven,  and 
not  until  eleven  this  night  did  the  sentry  on  the  south 
ward  front  hear  the  big  compound  tooting  for  the  cross 
ings  at  Bonner's  Bluff,  and  see  the  long  line  of  elec 
trics  come  gleaming  into  view  far  down  the  eastward 
valley. 

Private  O'Shea,  sentry  on  No.  3,  overlooking  the  flats 
whereon  stood  the  stables,  was  straining  his  ears  to  catch 
the  expected  call  of  eleven  o'clock  from  No.  2,  and 
watching  the  distant  trail  of  lights,  and  was  able  to  say 
next  morning  that  the  Flyer  was  just  shoving  its  nose 
behind  Two-Mile  Ridge  as  the  second  call,  that  of  eleven 
o'clock,  started  round.  The  moon  in  its  first  quarter, 
though  bright  and  clear,  was  then  dipping  low  in  the 
west  and  objects  were  by  no  means  as  distinct  as  they 
had  been  when  he  came  on  post  soon  after  nine  and  saw 
Lieutenant  Ray  set  forth,  mounted,  up  the  Minneconjou. 
O'Shea  remembered  that  Hogan,  who  took  care  of  the 
lieutenant's  horse,  had  come  back  across  his  post,  and 
they  had  had  a  brief  talk  about  him,  Hogan  saying  the 
lieutenant  was  n't  half  satisfied  with  having  blackened 
the  eyes  of  a  bigger  man.  "  He  was  that  savage  and 
snappy  he  rowed  me  for  keeping  him  so  long  waiting, 
when,  dear  knows,  he  could  n't  have  stood  at  the  back 
gate  ten  minutes."  O'Shea  owned  that  he  and  Hogan, 
"  all  the  fellers,  for  that  matter,"  had  wished  their  little 
bantam  of  a  canteen  officer  could  have  had  two  minutes 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

more  at  "  the  big  feller."  Foster  had  no  friends  among 
the  enlisted  men  at  the  fort.  It  presently  became  a  ques 
tion  whether  or  no  he  had  not  enemies.  Hogan  was 
just  saying  the  lieutenant  told  him  not  to  sit  up  for 
him  when  they  became  aware  of  someone  approaching, 
heard  the  rattle  of  a  sword,  and  saw  the  officer  of  the 
guard  barely  forty  yards  away,  whereat  Hogan  skipped 
for  the  stables.  Then  came  the  next  important  point  in 
O'Shea's  statement.  Just  as  the  tail  lights  of  the  big 
train  disappeared  behind  the  ridge  he  heard  the  sudden 
single  blast  of  the  whistle  sounding  the  old-time  signal 
"  down-brakes,"  noted  the  instant  change  from  the  loud, 
pulsing  exhaust  to  the  scream  of  escaping  steam,  heard 
even  the  squeal  and  grind  of  the  tightly  clamped  wheels 
as  the  Flyer  slowed  down  to  a  standstill.  He  was  won 
dering  what  had  happened  when  the  third  relief  came 
round  and  Private  Schmitz  took  his  place  on  post,  as 
subsequently  he  replaced  Shea  on  the  stand. 

Schmitz  was  an  honest  Teuton,  but  by  no  means  bril 
liant.  Schmitz  told  a  straightforward  tale,  and  one  that 
had  strange  and  significant  bearing  on  the  case  that 
became  presently  of  paramount  interest  at  Minneconjou. 
Schmitz  said  that  he  heard  the  train  going  on  westward 
after  the  relief  had  disappeared,  and  that,  just  after  the 
call  of  1 1 130,  he  walked  way  up  to  the  far  end  of  his 
post,  the  west  end,  came  slowly  back,  and  when  about  in 
rear  of  Lieutenant  Ray's  quarters  he  heard  a  sort  of  cough 
down  the  slope  toward  the  stables  and  saw  a  dark  form 


DEEPER    IN    THE    TOILS 

approaching.  He  challenged  in  low  tone,  as  he  had  been 
taught.  The  answer  was,  "  Officer  of  the  post,"  and 
before  he  could  think  how  to  say,  "  Advance  and  be 
recognized,"  the  officer  said,  "  Lieutenant  Ray,  sentry," 
and  went  on  without  stopping.  When  asked  to  describe 
the  officer,  Schmitz  said  the  moon  was  then  "  owudt " 
and  it  was  pretty  dark,  but  it  was  a  "  leetle,  schmall 
yentleman.  He  walk  and  talk  and  look  yust  like  Lieu 
tenant  Ray  effrey  day  does."  Questioned  as  to  the  dress, 
he  said  the  lieutenant  wore  his  "  kempyne  hat  bulled 
down  ofer  his  eyes — his  blue  blouse  mid  shoulder  straps, 
poots  unt  bants."  He  added  that,  though  the  officer 
had  n't  come  nearer  him  than  fifteen  feet,  if  it  was  n't 
Lieutenant  Ray,  who  was  it?  Schmitz  stood  pat  on  this 
proposition,  and  that  was  all  that  could  be  elicited  from 
him,  except  that  the  Herr  Lieutenant  had  gone  through 
the  back  gate  to  his  quarters. 

About  the  same  hour  the  telephone  in  the  quarter 
master's  office,  the  only  telephone  the  United  States 
would  permit  or,  at  least,  pay  for  at  the  post,  set  up  a 
sharp  ringing,  that  finally  roused  from  his  heavy  slum 
ber  a  veteran  employee  serving  as  clerk.  Shuffling  to 
the  instrument  in  his  slippers,  the  clerk  desired  to  be 
informed  what  in  sheol  Silver  Hill  wanted  waking  people 
that  hour  of  the  night?  The  reply  was  a  question. 
The  Argenta's  livery  stableman  wished  to  know  if  any 
thing  had  been  seen  of  a  horse  and  buggy  of  his  at  the 
fort.  A  gent  had  hired  one  just  about  dark,  said  he,  a 


144.  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

gent  who  said  he'd  be  back  about  ten,  and  who  had  n't 
come.  The  gent  had  had  supper  in  his  room  at  the 
Argenta  and  had  ordered  his  traps  sent  to  the  railway 
station  to  meet  the  Flyer.  They  said  at  the  hotel  office 
that  he  was  a  Captain  Foster,  whereat  the  clerk  became 
interested,  notified  the  stableman  that  he  would  make 
immediate  inquiry  at  the  guard-house,  and  did,  and  the 
guard  said  that  neither  Foster  nor  his  buggy  had  been 
seen  about  the  post.  The  clerk  was  beginning  to  dribble 
this  through  the  'phone,  when  he  was  suddenly  cut  off 
by  the  counter  announcement :  "  Oh,  it's  all  right !  The 
rig's  just  back.  Cap  took  the  Flyer  west  and  sent  a 
boy  home  with  it.  Never  even  got  change  for  the  ten 
dollars  he  deposited." 

But  when  mine  host  of  the  Argenta  came  back  from 
seeing  the  Flyer  off  for  the  west  he,  too,  had  questions 
to  ask  as  to  Foster.  Did  the  office  clerk  see  anything 
of  him?  Nothing.  "Queer,"  said  boniface,  "we  gave 
his  hand  baggage  to  the  Pullman  porter,  as  directed, 
but  his  trunk  is  there  yet.  Reckon  I'll  have  to  wire  after 
him  and  tell  the  conductor  to  send  them  things  back 
by  No.  5." 

And  this,  before  he  went  to  bed,  the  landlord  pro 
ceeded  to  do,  but  no  Captain  Foster  appeared  during 
the  night  to  claim  the  trunk  or  remonstrate  about  the 
luggage;  nor  came  there  any  answer  to  the  dispatch 
to  the  Flyer  until  the  following  morning,  when  there  was 
handed  the  proprietor  a  slip  somewhat  as  follows: 


DEEPER    IN    THE    TOILS  145 

Man  calling  himself  Captain  Foster  put  aboard  last  night  at 
Fort  Siding,  slugged  and  robbed.  Taking  him  on  to  Wister. 
Physician  in  charge.  Better  notify  police. 

This  was  about  eight  o'clock,  at  which  time  the  old 
guard  was  cleaning  up  about  the  guard-house  and  the 
companies  detailed  for  the  new  were  assembling  in  front 
of  their  quarters,  and  the  officer  of  the  guard,  a  young 
lieutenant  recently  joined  from  civil  life,  new  to  his  trade 
and  strange  to  the  traditions  of  the  army,  was  cross- 
questioning  a  reluctant  corporal  about  an  unauthorized 
item  of  equipment  found  tucked  into  his  cartridge  belt 
when  the  guard  paraded  at  reveille — an  officer's  gauntlet 
of  the  style  worn  in  the  cavalry  a  year  before  this  time. 
The  corporal  explained  that  it  had  been  picked  up  by 
No.  3  just  before  his  relief  was  taken  off  post  at  5:15, 
that  it  had  been  handed  him,  the  corporal,  just  before 
sentry's  shout  of  "  Turn  out  the  guard !  "  at  the  approach 
of  the  officer  of  the  day,  and  he  had  stowed  it  there  for 
want  of  a  better  place  and  before  he  had  had  time  to 
examine  it. 

But  No.  3,  it  seems,  had  had  time  to  examine,  and 
had  told  some  of  his  mates  of  his  discovery.  They  had 
gone  to  Corporal  Clancy  to  see  for  themselves,  and  had 
been  told  to  go  about  their  business,  which  led  to  more 
talk  that  finally  reached  the  lieutenant's  ears.  Clancy 
had  had  a  clatter  with  the  sergeant  and  had  been  refused 
permission  to  go  to  his  quarters  anywhere,  for  a  strange 
story  was  flitting  about  the  post  concerning  two  or  three 


146  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

men  of  "  B  "  Troop  who  had  been  out  late  the  previous 
night,  had  got  liquor  over  at  a  vile  resort  far  across 
the  Minneconjou,  and  a  little  southwest  of  town,  and 
had  had  a  sanguinary  fight  of  some  kind,  for  Sullivan 
was  badly  cut  and  Connelly  had  a  nasty  eye,  and  there 
was  something  black  and  ugly  back  of  it  they  were 
trying  to  hide,  unless  veteran  sergeants  were  in  error; 
and  finally  the  sergeant  of  the  guard  told  the  lieutenant 
of  the  story  and  said  he  believed  Corporal  Clancy  was 
secreting  evidence  that  might  be  of  value,  whereupon 
Clancy  was  ordered  into  the  presence  and  told  to  produce 
that  gauntlet. 

But  neither  lieutenant  nor  sergeant  dreamed  of  what 
was  before  them  when  Clancy  at  last  reluctantly  com 
plied,  dragging  from  beneath  his  blouse  what  had  been 
a  dainty  bit  of  military  finery,  a  soft  white  gauntlet,  that 
bore  within  the  cuff  the  inscription,  "  Sanford  Ray," 
and  that  without  was  soaked  and  stained  with  blood. 


CHAPTER    XII 

\ 

WHAT    THE    WOMEN    TOLD    THE    MAJOR 

IT  was  another  lovely  summer  morning,  sweet,  moist 
and  still.  The  squadron  had  been  out  as  usual, 
but  the  drill  had  been  anything  but  snappy  or 
spirited.  Every  officer  knew,  and  most  men  decided, 
that  something  was  weighing  heavily  on  the  major's 
mind,  for,  though  he  labored  conscientiously  through 
his  duties,  comments  and  corrections  were  few,  and, 
to  the  surprise  of  all,  he  even  dismissed  the  troops 
some  few  minutes  before  the  sounding  of  the  recall. 
Captain  Washburn  looked  back  over  his  shoulder  at  the 
tall,  spare,  sinewy  figure  riding  slowly,  even  dejectedly, 
with  downcast  eyes  and  troubled  visage,  back  toward 
the  big  quarters  at  the  end  of  the  row,  and  shook  his 
own  head  as  he  marveled  what  would  be  the  outcome 
of  all  this  foreboding.  Minneconjou  had  breathed  freer, 
for  all  its  subdued  chatter,  over  the  elimination  of  Cap 
tain  Foster  from  the  column  of  probabilities.  Minne 
conjou  had  seen  little  of  the  lovely  Mrs.  Dwight  of  late, 
for  though  she  appeared  at  every  dance,  several  dinners 
and  on  many  a  drive,  few  women  had  speech  with  her, 
thanks  to  Foster's  incessant  supervision,  and,  looking  at 
another  woman  without  unlimited  conversation  is  not 

147 


148  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

"  seeing  "  her  as  understood  in  feminine  society.  Since 
Foster's  departure  the  previous  day  only  the  doctor  and 
the  maid  had  been  admitted  to  the  presence  of  Mrs. 
Dwight,  though  there  had  been  callers  with  "  kind  in 
quiries."  It  was  now  time  for  guard-mounting  and  the 
busy  routine  of  another  day.  One  after  another  pret 
tily  gowned  matrons  and  maids  began  to  appear  on  the 
verandas  and  flit  from  door  to  door,  and  the  band 
marched  forth  and  took  its  station  on  the  parade  and 
the  details  were  being  inspected  by  the  sergeants  in  front 
of  their  quarters,  while,  well  over  toward  the  west  end 
of  the  big  quadrilateral,  a  dozen  army-bred  lads  of  vari 
ous  ages,  from  fourteen  down  to  five,  were  gleefully 
surrounding  a  pair  of  Indian  ponies  recently  bought  for 
the  doctor's  twin  boys.  Prominent  in  the  group,  Jimmy 
Dwight,  ever  a  prime  favorite,  was  bestriding  the  more 
promising  of  the  pair,  a  wall-eyed,  surly-looking  pinto, 
and,  as  perhaps  the  most  accomplished  horseman  in  the 
lot,  was  trying  to  make  the  unwilling  brute  show  his 
paces,  a  thing  that  only  an  Indian,  as  a  rule,  can  success 
fully  do.  Officers  on  their  way  to  their  company  duty 
stopped  to  see  the  fun.  The  adjutant  paused  before 
signaling  to  the  drum  major  and  said  a  laughing  word 
of  caution  to  the  merry  crowd,  lest  their  gleeful  shouts 
and  laughter  should  disturb  the  dignity  of  the  coming 
ceremony.  The  senior  surgeon,  coming  forth  from  his 
quarters,  Silver  Hill's  morning  journal  just  received, 
open  in  his  hand,,  moved  an  adjournment  to  the  rear  of 


WHAT  THE  WOMEN  TOLD  THE  MAJOR     149 

the  administration  building.  But  the  colonel  himself, 
likewise  provided  by  a  rushing  newsboy  with  a  fresh 
copy  of  our  morning  contemporary,  sallied  forth  from 
his  gate  and  shouted  encouragement  to  the  plucky  little 
rider.  "  Stick  to  him,  Jimmy  boy,  and  you  others 
don't  yell  so;  keep  quiet,  and  the  pony  will  tire  of 
kicking." 

Then  he  and  the  doctor  fell  into  converse  over  the  tele 
graphic  headline,  and  then  the  bugles  pealed  adjutant's 
call,  the  band  crashed  merrily  into  "  Hands  Across  the 
Sea,"  and  the  details  of  the  twelve  companies  came  march 
ing  jauntily  forth  upon  the  green.  The  colonel,  with 
soldierly  appreciation  in  his  eyes,  stood  watching  the 
sharp,  snappy  formation  of  the  line,  the  paper  dangling 
unheeded  from  his  thumb  and  forefinger,  while  the  sur 
geon,  more  alive  to  the  news  of  the  day  than  the  nice 
ties  of  military  duty,  turned  over  the  outer  page,  began 
to  scan  the  headlines  of  the  inner  column,  as  suddenly, 
impulsively,  unthinkingly  startled  the  colonel  by  the 
exclamation  "  God !  "  Stone  whirled  about  in  sudden 
anxiety.  For  a  moment  the  doctor  simply  stared  and 
read,  then  glanced  at  the  post  commander,  and,  without 
a  word,  handed  him  the  sheet.  Stone,  too,  stared,  started, 
looked  quickly  into  the  surgeon's  face,  and  then  said : 
"  Let's  get  inside."  So  together  these  veterans  of  their 
respective  corps  quit  the  field  and  the  sight  of  men  and 
boys  and  went  to  confer  within  the  depth  of  the  vine- 
shaded  veranda. 


150  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

At  that  same  moment  the  tall,  gaunt  form  of  Major 
Dwight  was  seen  to  issue  from  the  front  doorway  of 
the  first  quarters  on  the  southward  line,  the  field  officer's 
roomy  house,  and,  looking  neither  to  the  right  nor  the 
left,  straight,  stern  and  rigidly  erect,  he  strode  forth 
upon  the  grassy  parade,  heading  for  the  merry  group 
about  the  ponies.  The  band  had  ceased  its  spirited  march 
music.  The  adjutant  had  assigned  officers  and  non-com 
missioned  officers  to  their  posts.  The  lieutenant  com 
manding  had  ordered  "  Inspection  arms !  "  and  once 
again  the  strain  of  sweet  music  swept  across  the  green 
carpeted  quadrangle,  and  Marion  Ray,  seated  on  her 
piazza  far  down  the  line,  chatting  with  a  neighbor  who 
had  just  dropped  in,  lifted  her  head  and  listened.  It 
was  one  of  Margaret's  old  favorites,  a  song  she  used  to 
sing  and  loved  to  sing,  a  song  played  by  many  an  army 
band  for  many  a  year,  and  it  seemed  never  to  grow 
wearisome  or  stale — "  Happy  Be  Thy  Dreams."  With 
her  thoughts  all  of  Margaret  and  her  eyes  following 
her  thoughts,  she  arose,  stepped  to  the  rail,  looking  for 
little  Jim,  whom  she  had  recently  seen  but  seldom,  and 
then  caught  sight  of  the  major  a  long  distance  away, 
bearing  straight  and  swift  upon  the  romping  group  at 
the  westward  end  of  the  parade.  Barely  twenty  min 
utes  before,  as  she  was  giving  Sandy  his  coffee,  for  Sandy 
had  come  down  late  after  a  restless,  almost  sleepless 
night,  she  had  heard  Dwight's  deep  tones  at  the  front 
gate  in  earnest  conversation  with  Priscilla,  who  now 


WHAT  THE  WOMEN  TOLD  THE  MAJOR     151 

had  entirely  disappeared.  More  than  once  of  late  the 
two  had  been  in  talk  over  some  of  Priscilla's  schemes, 
but  the  housemaid  said  she  thought  Miss  Sanford  had 
gone  now  with  the  major  down  the  row,  perhaps  to  Lieu 
tenant  Thornton's.  Why  should  they  go  thither?  Pris- 
cilla  had  been  so  very  silent,  subdued  and,  it  was  hoped, 
contrite  since  the  exposure  of  her  correspondence  with 
the  Banner  that  Mrs.  Ray  marveled  at  her  early  resump 
tion  of  the  old  dominant  way;  for,  though  low-voiced 
and  almost  reluctant,  for  her,  Priscilla's  words  to  the 
major  had  been  spoken  firmly,  unflinchingly.  Only  two 
or  three  of  these  words  had  reached  the  ears  of  her 
aunt;  the  others  were  not  sufficiently  loud  or  articulate, 
but  whatever  they  were,  they  had  led  to  immediate  action, 
for  the  major  had  departed,  Priscilla  with  him,  and, 
anxiously,  inspired  partially  by  the  music,  partially  by 
some  indefinable  sense  of  something  going  sadly  amiss, 
something  that  should  be  stopped  at  once,  Marion  stepped 
forward,  gazed  eastward  down  the  row  and  saw  Priscilla 
in  close  conversation  with  little  Mrs.  Thornton,  only  five 

doors  away,  and  then,  all  in  a  flash,,  she  remembered 

Sandy,  before  starting  for  his  office,  had  gone  back  to 
his  room.  He  at  least  was  on  hand  and  ready  to  act  in 
case  she  needed  him,  but  as  yet  she  did  not  call.  For 
getful,  for  the  moment,  of  her  visitor,  she  stood  clasping 
the  rail  and  staring,  inert  and  even  possibly  fascinated, 
along  the  westward  line,  following  intently  and  with 
startled,  troubled  eyes  the  major's  movements.  Others, 


152  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

too,  had  noted  both  among  the  spectators  along  that  front 
and  among  the  laughing  lads  themselves.  By  this  time 
the  ponies  had  been  favored  with  new  riders  and  the 
riders  with  every  conceivable  suggestion  as  to  what  to 
attempt.  Jimmy  had  given  place  to  Harold  Winn,  and 
rejoicefully  was  bidding  him  clamp  tighter  with  his  legs 
and  knees  and  keep  his  hands  down  on  the  withers,  but 
too  late.  A  sudden  lunge  with  his  heels,  a  dive  with 
his  shaggy  head,  and  the  spunky  little  brute,  half-savage 
as  a  result  of  all-savage  training,  had  propelled  his 
would-be  conqueror  sprawling  to  the  edge  of  the  gleam 
ing  waters  of  the  acequia,  and  a  shout  of  mingled 
delight  and  derision  went  up  from  a  dozen  boy  throats, 
and  Jimmy,  helping  his  playmate,  unhurt  but  shaken,  to 
his  feet,  caught  sight  of  the  loved  form  speeding  toward 
them  over  the  green,  and,  bubbling  over  with  fun,  laugh 
ter,  high  health  and  spirits,  just  as  of  old  went  bounding 
joyously,  confidently,  to  meet  him. 

Of  just  what  was  passing  in  Oswald  Dwight's  bewil 
dered  mind  that  morning  God  alone  could  judge  and 
tell.  All  his  soldier  life  he  had  loved  truth  and  hated  a 
lie.  All  his  fond  and  confident  teaching  of  his  only  boy, 
Margaret's  darling  and  his  hope  and  pride,  had  been  to 
speak  the  truth,  frankly,  fearlessly,  fully,  first,  last  and  all 
the  time.  "  Never  fear  to  come  to  me  with  anything  you 
may  have  done.  Never  let  anything  tempt  you  to  swerve 
from  the  truth  and  the  whole  truth.  Nothing  you  can 
ever  say  or  do  will  ever  so  hurt  me  as  will  a  lie."  And 


WHAT  THE  WOMEN  TOLD  THE  MAJOR     153 

so,  fearlessly  and  fully,  from  the  time  Jim  had  begun  to 
prattle  he  had  learned  to  own  his  little  faults,  sure  of 
sympathy  and  forgiveness.  He  had  learned  to  strive  to 
conquer  them  for  the  sake  of  the  love  and  trust  that  was 
so  unfailing,  and  in  response  to  the  grave  but  ever  gentle 
admonition,  and  it  had  been  the  father's  fond  belief  for 
years  that  between  him  and  his  only  son  there  lived  utter 
confidence  and  faith,  that  Jim  would  ever  shrink  from  a 
lie  and  never  from  him.  Between  the  two,  father  and 
son,  never  had  there  seemed  to  come  a  shadow,  until  of 
late  that  darkly  beautiful  face  had  for  the  time,  at  least, 
replaced — that  other.  Since  then,  time  and  again  when 
Dwight  spoke  of  his  pride  and  trust  in  Jim,  the  new 
wife  had  listened,  unresponsive.  Since  that  last  night 
in  Naples,  whenever  Dwight  spoke  of  his  confidence  in 
Jimmy's  word  she  had  sometimes  looked  up  appealingly, 
timidly,  as  though  she  longed  to  believe  as  he  believed, 
yet  could  not — quite.  Sometimes  she  had  looked  away. 
Once  or  twice  she  had  ventured  a  faint  negation.  Jimmy 
would  not  deliberately  tell  a  falsehood;  oh,  she  was  sure 
of  that,  but,  like  all  children,  she  said,  when  suddenly 
accused,  the  impulse  would  be  to  deny,  would  it  not? 
and  then — had  not  the  major  observed? — did  he  not  re 
member — that  Jimmy  was  just  a  bit — imaginative? 
Dwight  puzzled  over  her  apparent  unbelief. 

But  very  recently  he  had  noticed  other  little  things 
that  vaguely  worried  him.  Could  it  be  that,  as  his  boy 
grew  older  and  mingled  more  with  other  boys,  he  was 


154  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

learning  to  be  influenced  more  by  them  and  less  by  the 
father?  Could  it  be  that  he  was  seeing,  hearing,  things, 
to  speak  of  which  he  dared  not?  There  might  be  things 
of  which  he  would  be  ashamed.  Certainly  the  father  had 
seen  at  times,  since  the  homeward  voyage,  a  certain  hesi 
tancy  on  part  of  the  son,  and  within  the  past  few  days, 
for  the  first  time  in  Jimmy's  life,  Dwight  had  noted 
symptoms  of  something  like  avoidance,  concealment, 
embarrassment,  something  that  told  his  jealous,  over 
anxious  heart  the  boy  no  longer  utterly  confided  in  the 
man.  It  was  late  the  previous  evening  when  the  little 
fellow  had  returned  with  his  stanch  friend,  Sergeant 
French,  and  a  fine  string  of  trout,  happy,  radiant,  proud 
of  his  success,  but  so  tired  he  could  hardly  keep  his  eyes 
open  long  enough  to  undress  and  get  to  bed.  Dwight 
had  met  him  at  the  door,  cautioning  silence  on  mam 
ma's  account,  and  the  young  face  that  beamed  up  at  his, 
all  delight  and  eagerness  at  first,  clouded  almost  instantly 
at  the  word.  Jimmy  did  not  even  care  for  the  tempting 
supper  set  aside  for  him — he  had  had  such  a  big  lunch, 
he  said,  in  smothered  tone,  as  he  prattled  eagerly  to 
his  father  and  showed  his  finny  prizes,  and  sipped  at  his 
glass  of  milk.  But  Dwight  had  been  brooding  over  little 
things  that  had  come  to  him  since  Foster's  assisted  emi 
gration.  He  had  returned  straight  from  his  conference 
with  Stone  and  the  surgeon  to  find  Inez  reduced  to  the 
sofa  and  smelling  salts — to  tell  her  at  once  that  their 
guest  was  gone,  not  because  of  a  fracas  with  Ray,  as 


WHAT  THE  WOMEN  TOLD  THE  MAJOR     155 

Foster  had  furiously  declared,  but  because  of  telegraphic 
orders  from  Washington  that  had  come,  possibly,  as  the 
result  of  Foster's  own  telegraphic  inquiries  of  Saturday 
and  Sunday.  Not  for  a  star  would  Dwight  let  his  wife 
suppose  that  Foster's  protracted  visit  had  given  him  the 
least  uneasiness!  But  the  maid,  that  pert  and  flippant 
young  person  so  much  in  evidence  about  the  house,  so 
indispensable  to  Inez,  so  intangibly  a  nuisance  to  him, 
kept  flitting  in  and  out,  with  her  persistent,  "  Madame 
should  compose  herself  " ;  "  Madame  should  not  try  to 
talk." 

The  "  young  person's "  nationality,  Dwight  be 
lieved,  was  Swiss-Italian,  rather  than  French.  They  had 
picked  her  up  in  Milan,  but  her  professional  interests, 
it  seems,  were  advanced  by  the  adoption  of  French 
methods  and  mannerisms.  She  had  early  striven  to  estab 
lish  herself  as  companion  rather  than  maid,  to  be  called 
Mademoiselle  rather  than  Felicie,  but  the  dragoon  had 
sharply  drawn  the  line,  and  in  the  beginning,  at  least, 
the  man  was  master.  As  ills  accumulated,  however,  and 
masculine  strength  deferred  to  feminine  weakness,  he 
succumbed  to  their  wishes,  with  the  result  that  the  ascen 
dency  of  the  domestic  was  becoming  a  matter  of  gossip. 
Once  established  at  the  post,  Felicie's  swift  methods  of 
acquiring  knowledge  of  all  that  was  going  on  about 
her,  and  unlimited  means  of  imparting  the  same  to  her 
mistress,  had  quite  speedily  established  confidential  re 
lations  to  which  the  putative  master  of  the  house  was  a 


156  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

stranger.  There  is  a  garrison  "  Service  of  Security  and 
Information  "  that  differs  widely  from  that  of  the  field — 
and  is  even  more  comprehensive. 

Felicie  had  heard  the  various  versions  of  the  affray  at 
Ray's  office.  Felicie  had  heard  of  the  lamentable  affair 
of  Georgie  Thornton's  injury  and  its  cause,  and  Felicie 
had  been  quick  to  see  and  suggest  how  this  incident 
might  be  utilized  in  case  Master  James  could  not  be  per 
suaded  to  forget  that,  when  he  came  hurrying  in  from 
church  the  previous  day,  mamma,  who  had  been  too  ill 
to  arise  at  ten  o'clock,  was  in  most  becoming  morning 
toilet  tete-a-tete  with  Captain  Foster  in  the  parlor. 
Felicie  had  even  assured  Madame  that  she  could  and 
would  influence  Master  James  accordingly,  and  this, 
too,  after  one  unsuccessful  attempt  on  Sunday.  Felicie 
had  fairly  flown,  all  sympathy  and  helpfulness,  to  fetch 
Master  James  fresh,  cool  water,  towels,  ice  for  the  back 
of  his  neck,  a  preventive  the  most  assured  for  nose 
bleed,  and  all  this  despite  Jimmy's  repellent  silence,  for 
the  lad  shrank  from  her  instinctively.  She  had  then 
striven  to  coax  him  to  promise  that  he  would  mention 
to  no  man  that  mamma  was  dressed  and  downstairs:  it 
would  so  annoy  the  doctor,  who  had  said  she  should 
remain  in  bed,  and,  indeed,  she  (Felicie)  and  the  dear 
captain  had  remonstrated  with  mamma,  and  were  even 
then  striving  to  persuade  mamma  to  return  to  her  room, 
as  later  she  had  to  when — Master  James  came  so  hur 
riedly  in.  The  only  response  had  been  a  blank  look  of 


WHAT  THE  WOMEN  TOLD  THE  MAJOR     157 

bewilderment  and  dislike  and  an  uncompromising: 
"  Well,  'spose  somebody  asks  me  ?  " 

All  this,  of  course,  was  known  at  the  moment  only  to 
the  three ;  but,  as  luck  would  have  it,  when  Dwight  came 
walking  slowly  homeward  from  church  with  Mrs.  Ray, 
communion  service  ended,  Jim  had  run  to  meet  them, 
the  nose-bleed  already  forgotten,  and,  to  the  father's. 
"  I  hope  you  did  n't  disturb  mamma,  my  boy.  She  was 
trying  hard  to  sleep,"  the  little  man  had  promptly,  im 
pulsively  responded :  "  No,  indeed,  daddy,  mamma  is 

up  and  dressed "  And  then  he  remembered,  faltered, 

blushed. 

Dwight  did  not  question  his  boy  about  his  new  mamma. 
That  was  another  thing  from  which  the  father  shrank. 
He  saw  the  lad's  sudden  confusion,  and  knew  that  some 
thing  was  being  held  back,  but  it  was  something  that 
should  be  held  back.  In  all  his  teachings  as  to  utter 
frankness,  truth,  confidence,  he,  of  course,  had  never 
meant  that  his  boy  should  be  a  tale-bearer — above  all 
that  he  should  ever  come  with  tales  of  his  new  mamma; 
yet  Dwight,  unfortunately,  had  never  given  him  to  under 
stand  that  there  were  matters,  now  that  the  boy  was 
growing  older  and  observant,  concerning  which  no  con 
fidences  were  expected  or  invited.  But  it  had  set  him 
to  thinking — to  questioning  Inez  as  to  her  sudden 
recovery,  and  again,  more  pointedly  that  Monday  after 
noon  between  the  hour  of  his  visit  with  the  colonel  and 
his  ominous  symptoms  at  parade,  thereby  bringing  on  a 


158  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

fit  of  nerves  for  her  and  a  swimming  of  the  head  for 
himself.  It  was  while  he  was  waiting  for  Jimmy's  home 
coming  that  Felicie — ostentatiously  bustling  to  and  fro, 
all  sympathy  for  Madame  in  her  prostration  and  anxiety 
as  to  M'sieu,  the  Commandant — had  contrived  to  intimate 
that  Monsieur  James  had  been  so  imprudent  as  to  rush. 
all  ensanguined,  into  the  presence  of  Madame,  and  now 
and  under  such  circumstances,  and  in  virgin  modesty, 
Felicie's  eyelids  drooped,  "  Madame  should  be  spared  all 
possibility  of  shock  or  emotion."  Under  any  other  cir 
cumstances  with  what  a  thrill  would  he  have  listened  to 
her  words  !  Did  not  Monsieur  conceive  ?  And  Madame's 
heart  and  sympathies  so  all-responsive !  Had  they  not 
already  been  lacerated  by  the  story  of  the  suffering  of 
the  little  George,  an  infant,  oh,  heaven,  the  most  amiable ! 
But  assuredly  Monsieur  James  had  apprised  his  father 
of  all  that  had  taken  place.  He,  too,  was  an  infant  the 
most  amiable,  and  Dwight,  overwrought  and  bewildered, 
before  Jimmy  went  to  his  bed  that  night,  had  again  asked 
him  what  all  this  meant  about  Georgie  Thornton,  and, 
looking  squarely  into  his  father's  face,  with  Margaret's 
soul  speaking  from  his  clear,  unflinching,  fearless  eyes, 
the  little  man  had  said  again,  "  Why,  daddy,  I  have  n't 
an  idea!  I  did  n't  even  hear  he  was  hurt  until  you 
told  me." 

Then  had  come  a  morning's  drill  following  an  al 
most  sleepless  night,  and  during  drill  he  had  rebuked 
young  Thornton  for  the  faults  of  his  platoon,  and  after 


WHAT  THE  WOMEN  TOLD  THE  MAJOR     159 

drill  had  lectured  him  a  bit  for  seeming  neglect  or  indif 
ference,  and  even  of  sullen  acceptance  of  deserved  criti 
cism.  Then,  suddenly,  remembering,  he  ceased  his 
rebuke,  turned  the  subject  and  asked  how  was  George, 
and  then  as  they  were  parting,  again  asked  how  it  hap 
pened,  and  was  again  startled  by  the  words :  "  Ask  your 
own  boy,  sir,"  for  Thornton,  like  many  an  older,  stronger, 
wiser  man,  accepted  unchallenged  the  views  of  his  wife. 
Jim  had  had  his  breakfast  and  was  gone  by  the  time 
Dwight  reached  home,  but  Felicie,  in  answer  to  question, 
with  infinite  regret  and  becoming  reluctance  owned  that 
Miss  Sanford  and  other  witnesses  of  the  unfortunate 
affair  united  in  saying  that  Monsieur  James  had,  in  a 
moment  of  boyish  petulance  perhaps,  swung  his  jacket 
full  in  the  face  of  Monsieur  George,  never  thinking, 
doubtless,  of  the  cruel,  sharp-edged,  metal  button  that 
should  so  nearly  cut  out  the  eye;  and  then,  terrified  at 
the  sight  of  so  much  blood,  was  it  not  natural  that  any 
child  should  run  from  the  sight  and  try  to  forget,  and 
perhaps  might  forget,  and  so  deny? 

Dwight  listened  in  a  daze,  spurning  the  toothsome 
breakfast  set  before  him;  then,  rising,  took  his  cap,  left 
the  house  without  another  word  and,  hastening  thither, 
found  Priscilla  Sanford  on  the  veranda  at  the  Rays'. 

As  she  herself  subsequently  admitted  to  her  aunt,  Pris 
cilla,  who  had  been  bred  to  the  doctrine  of  original  sin 
and  innate  propensity  for  evil,  who  had  long  thought 
that  the  major  stood  sorely  in  ignorance  as  to  Jimmy's 


160  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

spiritual  needs,  and  who  herself  stood  solemnly  con 
vinced  of  the  truth  of  the  Thornton  story,  now  conceived 
it  her  duty  to  fully  and  unreservedly  answer  the  major's 
questions.  Had  she  witnessed  the  affair?  She  had  in 
great  part,  she  said,  little  considering  that  of  the  most 
essential  part,  the  actual  blow  or  slash,  she  had  seen 
nothing.  Was  it  true  that  his  son  was — the  assailant? 
Priscilla  answered  that,  though  she  was  not  at  that  instant 
where  she  could  herself  see  the  blow,  she  an  instant  later 
saw  everything,  and  the  relative  position  of  the  boys  was 
such  that  there  was  no  room  for  doubt  it  was  James 
who  struck.  She  heard  the  scream  when  near  the  door 
and  at  once  ran  out.  And  had  not  Jimmy  stopped  to 
offer  aid  or — do  anything?  No,  Jimmy  had  rushed  on 
as  though  bent  on  overtaking  the  leaders,  as  though  he 
never  heard  what,  much  farther  away,  she  had  heard 
distinctly.  And  then  Priscilla  owned  that  the  look  of 
agony  in  the  father's  face  was  such  that  her  resolution 
well-nigh  failed  her. 

But,  unhappily,  not  quite.  There  are  possibly  no  people 
so  possessed  with  the  devil  of  meddling  in  the  manage 
ment  of  other  people's  children  as  those  who  never  had 
any,  or  else  have  been  phenomenal  failures  in  the  rearing 
of  their  own.  Dwight  asked  her  presently  to  go  with 
him  to  the  Thorntons',  which  she  did,  beginning  to  tremble 
now  as  her  eyes  studied  his  face.  Mrs.  Thornton  was 
on  the  veranda.  Young  hopeful,  with  bandaged  fore 
head,  was  blissfully  chasing  a  little  terrier  pup  about 


WHAT  THE  WOMEN  TOLD  THE  MAJOR     161 

the  yard.  She,  too,  began  to  tremble;  the  little  wrath 
and  resentment  left  was  oozing  from  her  ringer  tips  as 
Dwight  lifted  his  cap  from  the  lined  and  haggard  brow 
and  she  saw  the  infinite  trouble  in  his  deep-set  eyes.  But 
he  gave  her  no  time  to  speak. 

"  I  have  come,"  he  said,  "  to  express  my  deep  sorrow 
at  what  I  must  now  believe  my  son  has  done.     I  should 

have  come  before  had — had "  He  stumbled  miserably. 

Then,  with  sudden  effort,  "  I  will  see  Mr.  Thornton  and 
make  my  acknowledgments  later,  and  see  the  doctor,  but 

first "     Then  abruptly  he  bent,  caught  Georgie  by 

an  arm,  lifted  the  bandage  just  enough  to  see  the  adhesive 
plaster  underneath,  muttered  something  under  his  breath, 
dropped  his  hand  by  his  side,  looked  appealingly  one 
instant  in  Priscilla's  eyes  as  though  he  would  ask  one 
more  question,  never  heeding,  perhaps  never  hearing, 
Mrs.  Thornton's:  "Oh,  Major,  I'm  sure  Jimmy  could 
not  have  meant  it !  "  Womanlike,  all  vehemence  in  accu 
sation  at  first,  all  insistence  in  extenuation  now  that  ven 
geance  threatened.  The  next  moment  Dwight  was  gone, 
and  Priscilla  dare  not  follow  the  first  impulse  of  her  heart 
to  run  home  and  tell  Aunt  Marion  and  Sandy,  or  to  run 
after  him.  She  saw  the  major  turn  stiffly  in  at  his  own 
gate,  far  up  the  row,  saw  Aunt  Marion  come  forth,  and, 
like  guilty  things,  the  maiden  of  mature  years,  the  mother 
of  immature  mind,  held  there,  shrinking,  not  knowing 
what  to  look  for — what  to  do.  They,  too,  saw  Dwight 
come  forth  again;  but  none  of  the  anxious  eyes  along 


162  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

that  anxious  line  had  witnessed  what  had  befallen  in  the 
few  minutes  Dwight  spent  in  presence  of  his  wife.  That 
was  known,  until  some  days  later,  only  to  Felicie. 

She  was  still  abed,  sipping  her  chocolate,  and  looking 
but  a  shade  lighter,  when  he  abruptly  entered.  She 
could  almost  have  screamed  at  sight  of  his  twitching 
face,  but  he  held  up  warning  hand. 

"  Just  a  moment,  Inez.  You  had  come  home — you 
were  on  the  veranda,  I  believe;  did  you  see — anything 
of  that — that  trouble  among  the  boys  yesterday  ?  " 

She  had  seen  nothing.  She  was  listening  at  the  moment 
with  downcast  lids  and  heaving  bosom  to  Foster's  eager, 
hurried  words.  She  had  heard  the  shouts  of  merriment, 
and  faintly  heard  the  screams,  and  had  not  even  looked 
to  see  the  cause,  but  Felicie  had  found  no  inapt  pupil. 
Inez  buried  her  face  in  her  jeweled  hands.  Under  the 
filmy  veiling  of  her  dainty  nightdress  Dwight  could  see 
the  pretty  shoulders  beginning  to  heave  convulsively. 
Was  she  sobbing?  Stepping  closer,  he  repeated  the 
question.  "  I  must  know,"  said  he. 

"  Ah,  Oswald — how — how  can  I  ?  You  love  him  so ! 
You  love  him  so  much  more  than — me,  and  he — he 
hates  me!  He  shrinks  from  me!  He  would  not  shrink 
from — poisoning  you — against  me !  " 

"  Inez,  this  is  childish !  Tell  me  at  once  what  you 
know — why  you — distrust  him  ?  " 

Again  the  sobs,  the  convulsive  shoulder-heaving  be 
fore  she  would  speak,  and,  as  though  fired  with  wrath 


WHAT  THE  WOMEN  TOLD  THE  MAJOR     163 

inexpressible,  Dwight  started  for  the  door,  Then  she 
called  him.  Felicie  was  there,  all  distress,  anxiety,  con 
cern  for  Madame.  Indeed,  Monsieur  should  refrain — 
at  such  a  time,  and  then  there  were  two  to  talk,  each  sup 
plementing — reminding  the  other.  It  was  true  that  little 
Monsieur  James  could  not  seem  to  respond  to  the  love 
of  his  young  mother,  this  angel,  and  he  was  rude  and 
insolent  to  Felicie,  who  adored  him,  and  he — he  so  hurt 
and  distressed  Captain  Foster,  who  was  goodness  itself 
to  him.  It  was  for  rudely,  positively  contradicting  the 
captain  she,  Inez,  had  been  compelled  to  send  James  to 
his  room  and  require  him  to  remain  there  until  his  father's 
return,  not  thinking  how  long  the  father  would  be  gone 
on  his  visit  to  town,  and  even  then  James  was  obstinate ; 
he  would  not  apologize,  although  she  had  striven,  and 
Felicie,  too,  to  make  him  understand  how  his  father 
would  grieve  that  the  son  he  so  loved  could  so  affront 
his  guest;  and  they  feared,  they  feared  James  deceived 
sometimes  his  noble  father.  The  Naples  incident  was 
brought  up  again,  and  Jimmy's  odd  insistence  that  an 
officer  had  spoken  to  and  frightened  her,  and  then — 
those  little  things  he  had  told  on  the  homeward  voyage 
(Heaven  knows  how  true  they  were!)  and  then,  oh,  it 
wrung  their  hearts  to  see  the  father's  grief,  but  when 
Jimmy  denied  all  knowledge  of  the  injury  to  Georgie 
Thornton,  they  knew  and  Jimmy  knew — he  must  have 
known — it  was  his  own  doing.  Leaving  them  both  in 
tears,  the  father  flung  himself  from,  the  room  and  down 


164  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

the  stairs,  and  with  his  brain  afire  went  straightway  in 
search  of  his  son.  Good  God!  To  think  that,  after  all 
his  years  of  hope  and  prayer  and  faith  and  pride — of 
careful  teaching  and  utter  trust — that  it  should  come  to 
this,  that  the  boy  on  whom  his  great  heart  was  centered 
should  after  all — after  all  prove  a  coward  and  a  liar ! 
His  eyes  seemed  clouded.  He  saw  only  as  through  a 
lurid  glass.  The  sunlight  in  the  crisp,  delicious  air  was 
clear  as  crystal,  yet  there  was  a  blur  that  seemed  to 
overshadow  every  object.  There  was  a  ringing  in  his 
ears  that  dulled  the  sweet  strains  of  the  song  his  wife, 
his  own  wife,  his  love,  his  treasure,  Jimmy's  mother, 
used  to  sing,  for  now  he  never  heard  it.  His  temples 
throbbed ;  his  head  seemed  burning,  yet  the  face  was 
ashen.  The  twitching  lips,  bitten  into  gashes,  were  blue 
between  the  savage  teeth  marks,  and  yet  at  sight  of  the 
straight,  soldierly  form  he  loved,  little  Jim  had  quit  his 
fellows  and,  to  the  music  of  his  mother's  song — just  as 
of  old,  beaming,  joyous,  confident,  brimming  over  with 
fun  and  health — had  come  bounding  to  meet  him. 

It  had  been  the  father's  way  at  such  times  to  halt,  to 
bend  forward  with  outstretched  arms,  almost  as  he  had 
done  in  Jimmy's  earliest  toddling  baby  boyhood,  but  he 
never  halted  now.  Erect  and  stern  he  moved  straight 
on.  It  was  the  boy  who  suddenly  faltered,  whose  fond, 
happy,  radiant  face  grew  suddenly  white  and  seemed  to 
cloud  with  dread,  whose  eager  bounding  ceased  as  he 
neared  his  sire,  and,  though  the  hands  as  of  old  went 


WHAT  THE  WOMEN  TOLD  THE  MAJOR     165 

forth  to  clasp  the  hand  that  never  yet  had  failed  them, 
for  the  first  time  in  his  glad  young  life  Jimmy  Dwight 
looked  in  vain  for  the  love  and  welcome  that  had  ever 
been  his,  for  the  first  time  his  brave  young  heart  well- 
nigh  ceased  its  beating,  for  the  first  time  he  seemed  to 
shrink  from  his  father's  gaze. 

And  in  fear,  too,  but  not  for  himself;  oh,  never  for 
himself !  Vaguely,  strangely,  of  late  he  had  begun  to  feel 
that  all  was  not  well  with  the  father  he  so  loved,  and  now 
the  look  in  his  father's  face  was  terrible.  "  Oh,  daddy !  '* 
he  cried,  a  great  sob  welling  up  in  his  throat,  but  the 
answering  word  checked  him  instantly,  checked  his  anx 
ious  query,  turned  his  dread  at  the  instant  into  relief, 
almost  into  joy.  It  was  not  then  that  his  father  was  ill 
and  stricken.  It  was  that  he  was  angry — angry,  and  at 
him,  and  in  the  flash  of  a  second,  in  that  one  hoarse 
word — "  Home !  "  he  knew  what  it  must  be,  and  though 
his  lips  quivered  and  his  eyes  filled  and  again  the  sobs 
came  surging  from  his  breast,  just  as  of  old,  all  con 
fidence  that  his  word  could  not  be  questioned,  he  strove 
to  find  his  father's  hand,  even  as  homeward  now,  with 
Inez  and  her  hellcat  of  a  handmaid  peeping  trembling 
through  the  slats,  the  father  striding,  the  little  fellow 
fairly  running  before,  the  two  went  hurrying  on,  and 
Jimmy,  looking  back,  found  tongue,  and  his  one  thought 
found  words : 

"  Oh,  daddy,  indeed  I  was  n't — impudent  to  Captain 
Foster — to  mamma,  at  least,  I  did  n't  mean  it!  They 


166  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

were  there  in  the  parlor  when  I  ran  in  from  church,  and 

he  wanted  me  to  promise " 

And  then  Marion  Ray,  far  down  the  line,  with  one  cry 
for  Sandy,  sprang  forward  to  the  gate,  for  Oswald 
Dwight,  with  heavy  hand,  had  struck  his  little  son  across 
the  face  and  stretched  him  on  the  turf. 


CHAPTER    XIII 

WORST  DEED  OF  HIS  LIFE 

THERE  was  no  one  near  enough  to  reach  them 
at  the  moment.  Jimmy  was  on  his  feet  again 
in  an  instant,  dazed,  half-stunned,  breathless, 
but  still  unbelieving.  Father  could  not  have  heard. 
Father  would  surely  hear;  but  now  the  father's  hand 
had  seized  his  arm,  and,  when  the  boy  again  began  to 
gasp  his  plea,  it  was  almost  dragging  him  across  the 
acequia.  Blood  was  beginning  to  trickle  from  the  corner 
of  the  piteous  little  mouth.  There  was  foam  upon  the 
set  and  livid  lips  of  the  man.  "  Silence !  You've  lied 
enough !  "  was  the  savage  order,  as  Dwight  thrust  the 
boy  through  the  gate.  "  Not  there,  sir !  "  as  Jimmy, 
dumbly  striving  to  show  his  loyalty,  his  obedience,  his 
unshaken  trust,  would  have  run  on  up  the  steps.  "  To 
the  cellar ! "  and  in  fury  he  pointed  to  the  walk  that 
circled  the  house,  and  Jimmy  hurried  on.  They  had  van 
ished  from  sight  as  Marion  Ray,  with  terror  in  her  eyes, 
came  almost  running  up  the  row,  Priscilla  and  Mrs. 
Thornton  staring,  speechless  and  miserable,  after  her. 
A  lone  trooper,  an  humble  private  soldier,  riding  in  from 
the  westward  gate,  had  sprung  from  saddle,  thrown  the 
reins  over  a  post  and,  with  consternation  in  his  face,  had 

167 


168  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

started  after  them.  It  was  young  Hogan,  faithful  hench 
man  of  the  Rays,  still  borne  on  the  rolls  of  Ray's  old 
squadron.  They  were  in  the  cellar,  under  the  rear  of 
the  quarters,  when  he  reached  them,  and  Jimmy's  jacket 
was  lying  on  the  floor,  while  the  lad,  with  streaming, 
pleading  eyes,  was  looking  up  in  his  father's  face. 

"  Your  shirt,  too,  sir ! "  Dwight  ordered,  as  Hogan 
came  bounding  in. 

"  For  the  love  o'  God,  Major,  don't  bate  the  boy ! 
Sure  he  never  knew  he  did  it,  sir.  I  saw " 

"  Out  of  here,  you !  "  was  the  furious  answer.  "  Out 

or  I'll "  And  in  his  blind  rage  the  officer  grasped 

the  unresisting  soldier  by  the  throat  and  hurled  him 
through  the  doorway  whence  he  came.  "  Off  with 
that  shirt !  "  he  again  shouted,  as  he  turned.  It  was 
already  almost  off.  Ah,  how  white  and  smooth  and  firm 
was  that  slender,  quivering  little  body,  as,  for  the  last  time 
the  streaming  eyes  were  imploringly  uplifted,  the  slender 
arms  upraised,  the  sobbing  prayer  poured  forth  only  to 
be  heard — only  to  be  heard. 

"  Face  the  window !  Turn  your  back,  sir !  "  was  the 
sole  answer  through  the  set  teeth,  while  with  sinewy  hand 
the  father  swung  a  yard-long  strip  of  leather,  some  dis 
carded  stirrup  strap  the  boys  had  left  upon  the  bench, 
and  poor  Hogan,  with  a  cry  and  curse  upon  his  lips, 
rushed  again  to  the  front  in  search  of  aid.  One  savage 
swish,  one  sharp,  cruel,  crashing  snap,  one  half-stifled, 
piteous  scream,  and  then  the  doorway  was  suddenly  dark- 


WORST    DEED    OF    HIS    LIFE          169 

ened,  the  maddened  man  was  thrust  aside,  and,  breathless, 
panting,  but  determined  and  defiant,  Marion  Ray  had 
flung  herself  upon  the  bent  and  shrinking  child,  her  fond 
arms  clasping  the  bared  and  quivering  back  to  her  wildly 
throbbing  heart,  her  own  brave  form  thrust  between  her 
precious  charge  and  the  again  uplifted  scourge.  "  Jimmy 
boy,  my  darling ! "  she  sobbed,  as  strong  and  safe  and 
sure  she  held  him.  Then,  with  her  blue  eyes  blazing,  she 
turned  on  him. 

"  Oswald  Dwight,  are  you  mad  ?  " 

Then  again  the  door  was  darkened  as  Sandy  Ray  came 
limping  in.  One  glance  was  enough.  The  strap  was 
wrenched  from  the  father's  hand  and  hurled  to  the  open, 
empty,  black-mouthed  furnace.  Then  both  hands  were 
needed,  for  Dwight,  just  as  on  Monday  evening  at  parade, 
had  begun  to  sway  and  was  groping  for  support.  There 
was  no  one  to  interpose,  no  one  to  interfere,  when 
Marion  Ray,  having  at  last  stilled  poor  Jimmy's  heavy 
sobbing  and  bathed  his  face  and  hands  and  helped  him 
to  dress,  led  him  unresisting  away  to  her  little  home, 
for  Madame  "  in  her  condition  " — as  Felicie  explained 
individually  to  the  dozen  men  and  women  who  thronged 
the  major's  quarters  that  unhappy  morning — was  pros 
trated,  desolated,  distracted  by  the  tragedy  that  had  come 
to  arrive.  It  was  as  well,  perhaps,  that  at  last  it  mani 
fested  itself  what  monster  was  this  who  held  this  angel 
in  bondage — the  monster  himself,  meantime,  having  been 
led  to  his  room  by  Dr.  Wallen.  There,  half-dazed,  half- 


170  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

raving,  he  resisted  and  declaimed  until  at  last  their  meas 
ures  took  effect,  both  doctors  being  with  him  now,  and 
he  was  partially  disrobed  and  compelled  to  lie  down  upon 
the  bed.  There  one  or  both  of  them  sat  and  watched  the 
rest  of  the  livelong  day.  There,  finally,  after  nightfall  a 
trained  nurse  took  station  with  attendants  in  readiness 
in  the  hallway,  for  delirium  had  set  in  and  Dwight's 
condition  was  declared  critical. 

Bad  as  it  was,  this  was  by  no  means  the  sole  topic 
of  talk  for  Minneconjou's  seething  population.  Among 
the  women,  Mrs.  Ray  stood  foremost  as  heroine  of  the 
occasion,  and  half  the  feminine  element  of  the  garrison 
had  been  to  call  and  congratulate  and  praise  her  before 
the  day  was  done.  But  Marion  was  in  no  mood  for 
either.  It  had  come  to  her  as  a  vital  question  what  to 
do  with  Priscilla.  Sandy  had  charged  his  cousin  in  so 
many  words  with  having  deliberately  incited  Major 
Dwight  to  his  furious  and  unreasoning  assault,  so  Sandy 
regarded  it,  upon  his  only  son,  and  Sandy  had  for  a 
week  or  more  been  looking  upon  Dwight  as  a  wronged 
and  injured  man.  Priscilla,  as  we  know,  had  virtually 
and  virtuously  admitted  much  of  her  error  to  Aunt 
Marion,  but  persisted  that  though  they  both,  Mrs.  Thorn 
ton  and  she,  considered  that  it  was  high  time  Jimmy  was 
punished  instead  of  petted,  they  never  dreamed  to  what 
length  the  father  would  go.  "  Punished  for  what?"  in 
dignantly  demanded  Aunt  Marion.  "  For  his  having  so 
cruelly  hurt  Georgie  Thornton,  and  then  denying  all 


WORST    DEED    OF    HIS    LIFE  171 

knowledge  of  it,"  was  the  reply.  Words  are  inadequate 
to  describe  the  indignation  with  which  Mrs.  Ray  heard 
and  answered.  Jimmy  never  knew  it  at  the  time  or 
heard,  until  late  that  night,  of  what  had  happened. 
Hogan,  and  others  for  that  matter,  saw  the  entire  affair. 
Jimmy  was  whirling  his  English-made  jacket  about  his 
head  as  he  raced  in  pursuit  of  the  leader,  never  realizing 
that  Georgie  Thornton,  swift  almost  as  himself,  was  close 
at  his  right  hand.  The  button  had  cut  its  keen-edged 
way  without  so  much  as  a  shock  or  pause.  Jimmy  never 
even  suspected  it.  In  that,  as  in  everything  else,  said  she, 
he  had  told  his  father  the  entire  truth,  though  Mrs.  Ray 
herself  hardly  dreamed  how  much  he  had  to  tell.  So 
by  noontime  Priscilla  had  again  shut  herself  in  her  room 
to  ponder  over  the  miscarriage  of  her  excellent  intentions, 
and  to  pray,  as  well  she  might,  for  future  guidance. 

But  while  at  the  Rays',  and  possibly  at  the  Dwights\ 
there  was  little  thought  or  talk  of  any  other  topic  all 
the  morning,  all  over  the  garrison  was  buzzing  a  second 
story  that  started  soon  after  the  newsboy  from  town, 
cantering  out  on  his  cow  pony  just  before  guard-mount 
ing,  sold  his  three  dozen  Stars  inside  of  an  hour  and  sent 
him  back  for  more.  The  colonel  and  surgeon  were  first 
to  receive  and  read.  Dwight  received,  but  never  read, 
and  other  majors,  captains  and  subalterns — not  to  men 
tion  non-commissioned  officers  and  privates — chased  the 
newsboy  in  eagerness  to  buy.  It  was  a  paragraph  on 
an  inside  page,  modest  and  moderate  enough  in  itself — 


172  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

for  the  frontier  press  has  learned  to  know  the  army 
and  not  to  defame  it — but  it  stirred  a  sensation  at  Minne- 
conjou  its  editor  refused  to  start  in  town.  In  brief,  it 
was  as  follows: 

ASSAULT  ALLEGED 

Just  as  we  go  to  press'  a  dispatch  is  received  from  a  represen 
tative  of  the  STAR,  who  left  last  night  on  the  westbound  Flyer. 
The  train  was  flagged  at  Fort  Siding  and  boarded,  with  the  assist 
ance  of  a  ranchman,  by  Captain  Stanley  Foster,  of  the  Cavalry, 
lately  visiting  friends  at  Minneconjou.  The  officer  was  bruised, 
bleeding,  and  well-nigh  exhausted,  but  managed  to  tell  that  he 
had  been  held  up  while  driving,  had  been  forcibly  carried  out  on 
the  open  prairie,  and  brutally  beaten  by  ruffians  whom  he  de 
clares  to  be  soldiers,  all  strangers  to  him  with  one  exception. 
The  captain  names  as  ringleader  a  prominent  and  well-known 
young  officer  of  the  post. 

Dr.  Fowler,  of  Sagamore  Heights,  was  called  by  wire,  met  the 
train  at  the  Pass,  and  went  on  with  the  injured  man.  The  story, 
of  course,  sounds  incredible,  and  cannot  as  yet  be  substantiated. 

It  was  just  after  lunch  time  when  a  messenger  came 
to  the  Rays.  The  surgeon  asked  if  the  lieutenant  could 
come  to  Major  Dwight  a  moment,  and  the  doctor  himself 
met  Sandy  at  the  door.  The  veteran's  face  was  very 
grave.  He  had  known  the  young  officer  but  a  few  months. 
He  had  known  his  father  long.  "  Are  you  feeling  fit 
for  a  hard  interview  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  If  need  be.    What's  the  matter?  " 

"  Dwight  is  in  a  fearful  frame  of  mind,  and  the  Lord 
only  knows  how  it  is  to  end.  Dwight  realizes  now  that 


WORST    DEED    OF    HIS    LIFE          173 

Jimmy  was  entirely  innocent  of  any  knowledge  of  that 
thing  the  Thorntons  charged  him  with.  Your  mother 
sent  Hogan  and  a  trumpeter  up  here.  Both  had  seen 
the  whole  affair,  and  Dwight  would  see  them.  He  never 
could  have  rested  till  he  got  the  facts.  We  have  per 
suaded  him  that  he  must  not  question  his  wife,  and  that 
French  cat  says  she  cannot  leave  her  mistress  an  instant. 
He's  raging  now  to  see  you,  and  I  reckon  it's  no  use 
trying  more  sedatives  until  you  are  off  his  mind.  Will 
you  come  in  ?  " 

Ray  pondered  a  moment,  then,    "  Go  ahead,"  said  he. 

They  found  Dwight  pacing  the  floor  like  a  caged  and 
raging  lion.  He  whirled  on  the  two  the  moment  they 
entered,  Wallen  vainly  preaching  self-control  and  modera 
tion.  The  misery  in  the  man's  face  killed  the  last  vestige 
of  Ray's  antipathy.  It  was  something  indescribable. 

"  Sandy,  I'm  in  hell,  but — it's  the  truth,  the  whole 
truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth  I  must  have.  Did  you — 
before  you  joined  us  at  the  Grand  in  Naples — did  you 
meet — did  you  see  Mrs.  Dwight  ?  " 

"  Yes,"_said  Ray. 

Dwight  halted,  resting  his  shaking  hand  on  the  back 
of  a  chair,  and  the  shake  went  down  through  the  back 
and  legs  to  the  very  floor. 

"Where?     How?" 

"  In  front  of  Cook's  Bank.  Mrs.  Dwight  was  in  an 
open  carriage ;  why  should  n't  I  speak  to  her  ?  "  And 
the  head  went  up  and  back,  so  like  his  father. 


174  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

"  No  reason  whatever,,  but  why  should  she  lie  ?  Tell 
me  that !  Why  should  she  swear  that  my  boy,  Margaret's 
boy,  lied?  Oh,  my  God,  tell  me  that !  " 

"  Major,  Major !  "  pleaded  Wallen,  with  outstretched 
hand.  "  This  will  never  do.  This— 

"  Let  him  alone,"  said  the  senior  bluntly.  "  It's  got 
to  come." 

"  Because,"  said  Ray,  looking  straight  at  his  man,  "  I 
was  fool  enough  to  fall  in  love  with  her  the  same  time 
you  did  at  Manila.  Perhaps  she  thought  I'd  be  black 
guard  enough  to  follow  her  after  she  became  your  wife." 

"You — you  met  her — called  upon  her — at  the  Grand, 
I  remember." 

"  I  did,  and  I'd  do  the  same  thing  again.  I  wanted  my 
letters,  and  I  had  a  right  to  them.  She  said  that  she  had 
burned  them  all,  and  that  ended  it.  There's  never  been 
a  line  between  us  since.  I  have  never  seen  her  since — 
when  I  could  decently  avoid  it.  I  hope  to  God  I'll  never 
have  to  see  her — again." 

"  There,  there,  Dwight,  that's  more  than  enough,"  said 
Dr.  Waring,  watching  narrowly  the  working  features. 
"  Thank  you,  Ray.  Nothing  more  could  be  asked  or 
expected."  Then,  sotto  voce,  "  Get  out  quick !  "  and  Ray, 
every  nerve  athrill,  passed  forth  into  the  hallway,  passed 
another  door,  which  quickly  opened,  and  out  came  Felicie, 
finger  on  lip,  eyes  dilated,  one  hand  held  forth  in  eager 
appeal. 

"  Oh,  Monsieur — Mr.  Ray,  just  one  second,  I  implore — 


WORST    DEED    OF    HIS    LIFE  175 

Madame  implores.  She  beg  to  see  you."  And  the  hand 
just  grazed  his  arm,  as  he  burst  impetuously,  angrily  by. 

"  You  go  to "  was  on  his  furious  lip,  but  he  bit  the 

words  in  twain  and  bolted  down  the  stairs  and  out  into 
the  open  air,  mopping  his  heated  brow. 

The  adjutant  was  coming  swiftly  up  the  row.  He  had 
hastened  forth  from  a  vine-covered  piazza  well  toward 
the  eastward  end  just  as  Ray,  with  heart  still  hammering, 
came  limping  again  into  the  glare  of  the  sunlight.  As 
they  neared  each  other — the  staff  officer  with  quick, 
springy  step,  the  subaltern  somewhat  halting  and  lame — 
the  latter  caught  sight  of  a  sabre  swinging  at  the  senior's 
hip.  What  but  one  thing  at  that  hour  of  the  day  could 
this  portend  ?  One  moment  brought  the  answer : 

"  Mr.  Ray,  I  reg "  with  reddened  cheek  and  blink 
ing  eyes,  began  the  adjutant,  who  liked  him  well.  Then, 
with  sudden  effort,  "  I — you  are  hereby  placed  in  close 
arrest  and  confined  to  your  quarters — by  order  of  Colonel 
Stone." 


CHAPTER   XIV 

REACTION 

THAT  colonel  was  a  very  unhappy  man.  "  All 
the  devils  in  the  calendar,"  said  he,  "  have 
broken  loose  here  at  Minneconjou.  My  cavalry 
commander  has  gone  stark,  staring  mad,  and  it  takes 
four  men  to  hold  him.  His  wife  cannot  stay  under 
the  same  roof  and  live,  says  the  maid.  Madame  must 
repose  herself,  or  die.  Mrs.  Stone  says  she  might  take 
the  mistress  under  our  roof,  but  she'll  be  damned  if  she'll 
take  the  maid — at  least  she  meant  that.  I  said  it.  The 
maid  says  the  mistress  will  die  if  they  are  separated  an 
instant,  which  suggests  a  happy  end  to  one  of  our 
troubles,  and  the  cause  of  all  the  rest;  and  to  cap  the 
climax,  Billy  Ray's  boy  has  done  the  maddest  thing  ever 
dreamed  of  in  Dakota.  Why,  doctor,  I  tell  you  it  can't 
be  doubted !  Foster  wires  the  identification  was  complete. 
He  dropped  the  handkerchief  that  hid  his  face.  Depart 
ment  Headquarters  wired  at  once  to  slap  him  in  arrest 
and  investigate,  and  the  further  we  look  the  worse  it 
looks  for  Ray — and  then,  by  gad,  he  denies  the  whole 
thing  and  demands  a  court-martial!  Was  ever  a  man 
so  mixed  as  I  am !  " 
It  was  even  as  Stone  said.  Dwight  was  for  the  time 

176 


REACTION  177 

being,  at  least,  as  mad  as  a  maniac.  "  Brain  fever,"  said 
the  wiseacres  about  the  post,  "  superinduced  by  sun 
stroke  abroad  and  scandal  at  home."  Since  Tuesday 
night  he  had  recognized  no  one,  had  raved  or  muttered 
almost  incessantly,  and  at  times  had  struggled  fiercely 
with  his  attendants  in  the  effort  to  leave  his  bed.  Mrs. 
D wight's  room  adjoined  that  in  which  he  lay,  and  Felicie 
had  incurred  the  wrath  of  the  doctor  by  urging  that 
Madame's  condition  demanded  that  Monsieur  be  re 
moved  to  hospital  or  to  some  remote  apartment  about  the 
neighborhood.  To  take  him  to  hospital  meant  that  a 
score  of  sick  or  semi-convalescents  should  be  disturbed. 
If  Madame  could  not  sleep  where  she  was,  let  Madame 
move.  There  was  nothing  on  earth  the  matter  with . 
Madame  but  nerves — and  a  nuisance  in  shape  of  a  maid, 
said  the  doctor,  whereat  Felicie  had  proclaimed  him,  too, 
a  monster,  and  fled  to  Madame.  Mrs.  Stone  had  indeed 
come  and  offered  Mrs.  Dwight  shelter  under  the  colonel's 
roof,  but  she  said  at  the  same  time  the  colonel  drew  the 
line  at  the  maid,  and  told  Wallen  he  would  not  tolerate 
that  bunch  of  frippery  and  impudence.  Mrs.  Dwight 
was  in  dread  and  misery.  What  could  have  happened 
to  so  prostrate  her  beloved  husband?  No,  a  thousand 
times  no,  she  'could  not  think  of  leaving  him!  What 
she  needed  was  restoratives — something  to  give  her 
strength  that  she  might  hie  to  his  bedside  and  tenderly 
nurse. and  care  for  him.  She  had  had  too  much  restora 
tive,  swore  Wallen,  when  he  heard  this  tale.  "  We've 


178  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

shut  off  the  champagne  with  which  that  hussy  had  been 
dosing  her — not  that  she  did  n't  demand  it — and  now  it's 
Katzenjammer  as  much  as  anything  else.  If  anybody 
is  to  move,  let  the  maid  move  her  to  the  spare  room  on 
the  floor  below — where  Foster  slept."  But  Inez  could 
not  think  of  moving  so  far  from  her  husband's  side. 

Of  Dwight's  sudden  insanity  (so  most  of  Minneconjou 
regarded  it)  and  his  furious  treatment  of  little  Jim  the 
garrison  spoke  with  bated  breath  and  infinite  compassion 
and  distress.  Nothing  but  mental  derangement  could 
account  for  it.  Mrs.  Thornton  and  Priscilla,  it  may  be 
conjectured,  did  not  confide  to  their  neighbors  any  too 
much  of  their  share  in  the  matter,  Mrs.  Thornton  assur 
ing  all  who  questioned  her  that  she  had  done  her  best 
to  assure  the  major  that  Jimmy  could  not  possibly  have 
purposely  or  knowingly  struck  her  boy,  which  was  par 
tially  true ;  and  Priscilla  had  declined  all  conversation  on 
the  subject,  save  with  her  aunt,  and  Mrs.  Ray,  it  may  be 
surmised,  was  not  the  woman  to  tell  broadcast  of  her 
niece's  responsibility  in  the  premises,  whatever  she  might 
later  say  to  Oswald  Dwight.  Moreover,  Marion  Ray 
was  not  then  in  mood  to  talk  confidentially  with  anyone 
outside  of  her  own  doors,  for  the  misfortune — the 
wrong — that  had  come  to  Sandy  had  well-nigh  over 
whelmed  her. 

Like  the  man  he  was,  Stone  had  called  at  the  house 
the  moment  she  intimated  through  his  own  messenger 
that  she  was  in  readiness  to  see  him.  The  adjutant  be- 


REACTION  179 

fore  returning  to  report  his  action  to  the  post  commander 
had  so  far  departed  from  the  strict  letter  of  his  duty  as 
to  confidentially  inform  the  dazed  young  officer  that  the 
order  had  come  by  wire  from  St.  Paul.  It  was  not  the 
colonel's  doing. 

Sandy  was  in  his  room,  "  cooling  off,"  as  he  said, 
when,  with  all  his  own  troubles  and  others'  deeds  upon 
his  head  and  clouding  his  honest  old  face,  the 
post  commander  himself  came  in,  took  the  mother's 
hand  and  led  her  to  a  seat.  "  It  can't  upset  you  more 
than  it  has  me,  my  friend,"  said  he.  "  I  s'pose  the  ex 
planation  of  it  all  is  that  they  met  somehow — accident 
ally,  perhaps — renewed  the  quarrel;  Sandy  was  possibly 
getting  the  worst  of  it  and  the  men,  whoever  they  were, 
could  n't  stand  that,  for  they  worshiped  him,  and  pitched 
in.  There  are  few  of  our  fellows,  especially  in  the  cav 
alry,  that  don't  just  love  Sandy.  There  are  some  here 
that  hate  Foster,"  and  then  Stone  stopped,  astounded, 
confused,  for  Marion  Ray,  with  rising  color,  interrupted : 

"  Why,  Colonel  Stone,  you  speak  as  though  you  thought 
it  possible  that  my  son  could  have  been  concerned  in 
this  affair ! " 

For  an  instant  the  colonel  struggled  for  words,  his  red 
face  mottling  in  the  violence  of  his  emotion. 

"Why,  how  can  I  help  it,  Mrs.  Ray,  with  all  I  have 
heard?  But — but  I'm  more  than  glad  you  don't.  What 
does  he  say  ?  " 

"  That  he  never  dreamed  of  such  a  thing,"  was  the 


180  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

brief  answer,  and  Stone  hitched  half  a  dozen  different 
ways  in  his  chair. 

"  Colonel  Leale,  Department  Inspector,  was  on  that 
train,"  said  Stone  slowly,  "  and  reported  Foster's  story 
verbatim,  I  suppose,  to  department  headquarters,  where 
the  arrest  was  ordered  at  once,  and  they  demand  that 
we  apprehend  the  confederates.  The  general's  away, 
and  there  is  n't  a  man  at  headquarters  that  smelt  powder 
in  the  Civil  War — or  they'd  know  confederates  were  n't 
so  precious  easy  to  apprehend.  The  men  who  might 
have  been  implicated  all  swear  they  were  in  town  at  the 
time  and  can  prove  an  alibi;  and  unless  Sandy  will  tell, 
who  can  ?  " 

"  You  still  speak  as  though  he  could  have  had  some 
thing  to  do  with  the  assault,  Colonel.  I'll  call  him  to 
speak  for  himself."  So  Sandy  came  down.  Colonel 
and  subaltern  were  left  together,  and  Marion,  with  sore, 
wounded  and  anxious  heart,  stepped  into  her  own  little 
snuggery  to  look  at  the  picture  of  her  far-away  husband 
(ah,  how  she  missed  him  and  needed  him!)  and  of 
Maidie,  her  sweet  and  winsome  daughter,  now  Mrs. 
Stuyvesant  of  Gotham,  of  Sandy  in  the  cadet  uniform  of 
his  yearling  days  and  the  khaki  of  Manila,  of  Billy,  Junior, 
now  far  away  studying  for  the  entrance  exams  at  the 
famous  Academy.  Of  the  four  beings  she  most  devotedly 
loved,  only  one  was  with  her  now,  her  deeply,  doubly 
wronged  Sandy,  whose  impetuous,  indignant  tones  she 
could  hear  so  distinctly  as  he  told  his  own  story  to  the 


REACTION  181 

colonel's  sympathetic  ear.  So  distinctly  indeed  could  she 
hear  her  own  boy  that  for  a  moment  she  failed  to  hear 
Margaret's  little  Jim,  standing  patiently,  pathetically  at 
the  threshold;  but  at  sight  of  his  sorrowful  face  her 
arms  went  out  to  him  instantly.  Jim  could  think — speak — 
of  nothing  but  his  father,  his  father  who,  they  all  told 
him,  was  so  ill  that  he  would  not  know  his  own  blessed 
boy,  who  could  not  have  known  him  or  himself  or  any 
body  that  dreadful  morning!  Love  and  anxiety,  utter 
trust  and  forgiveness,  were  uppermost  in  the  loyal  little 
heart,  and  Marion,  speechless,  held  and  rocked  him  in 
her  arms  as  she  listened  to  his  broken  words  and  to  the 
sound  of  the  brave  young  voice  in  the  parlor.  Oh, 
what  would  she  not  have  to  tell  in  that  next  letter  to  her 
husband,  now  so  many  a  weary  league  of  land  and  sea 
beyond  possibility  of  call! 

A  badgered  man  was  Stone,  as  he  tramped  back  home 
ward,  taking  a  short  cut  across  the  parade,  ostensibly 
to  look  at  the  patchwork  along  the  acequia,  the  morn 
ing's  task  of  the  fatigue  details,  but  only  too  obviously 
to  avoid  the  eyes  and  greetings  of  the  many  women  along 
the  row.  Sandy  Ray's  story  was  told  in  utter  sincerity, 
so  far  as  Stone  could  judge.  Yet  how  was  it  to  help 
him?  Sandy  admitted  having  set  forth  westward  up 
the  valley,  having  ridden  lazily  out  beyond  the  butts  of 
the  rifle  range,  and  then  over  the  southward  range  to  the 
prairie.  He  was  gone  fully  two  hours,  he  said.  The 
moon  was  so  low  when  he  returned  that,  after  leaving 


182  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

his  horse  with  the  man  in  the  stables,  he  could  only 
barely  see  the  sentry  on  No.  3  some  distance  up  the 
post,  and  the  sentry  apparently  did  not  see — he  cer 
tainly  did  not  challenge— him  at  all.  That  was  bad.  It 
would  have  been  so  much  better  if  No.  3  had  seen,  recog 
nized  and  could  vouch  for  him.  Stone  did  not  tell  Sandy 
of  the  sentry's  story.  He  wished  to  think  that  over. 
Sandy  said  that  the  sentry  at  the  stables  was  some  dis 
tance  down  his  post  and  the  only  man  with  whom  he 
spoke  was  this  unrecognized  soldier,  presumably  on  duty 
at  the  quartermaster's  stables,  where  the  lieutenant's 
mount  was  kept  and  cared  for.  No,  Sandy  did  n't  know 
his  name,,  he  did  n't  even  notice  him  particularly.  Two 
or  three  men,  he  thought,  were  smoking  their  pipes  at 
the  corral  corner,  away  from  stables,  as  required,  and 
one  of  these  had  come  forward  as  he  neared  the  gate, 
and  asked  should  he  take  the  lieutenant's  horse.  Ray 
thanked  him,  dismounted  and  turned  away.  Now,  what 
bothered  the  colonel  was  that  both  the  sergeant  in  charge 
and  each  one  of  the  four  men  previously  questioned 
declared  he  did  not  know  the  hour  at  which  Lieutenant 
Ray  returned.  They  had  gone  to  bed  at  or  before  10:30, 
leaving  the  door  on  the  bolt,  so  that  Hogan  or  the  lieu 
tenant  himself  could  easily  enter.  One  man,  in  fact, 
went  so  far  as  to  say  that  coming  down  from  the  Canteen 
about  10:30  he  could  have  sworn  almost  it  was  Lieutenant 
Ray  who  was  slowly  climbing  the  slope  to  the  post  of 
No.  3,  and  the  rear  of  the  officers'  quarters.  This  ac- 


REACTION  183 

corded  in  a  degree  with  the  statement  of  Schmitz.  What 
good  was  Sandy's  story  to  do  him  if  Foster  firmly  ad 
hered  to  the  statement  made  to  the  Department  Inspector  ? 
There  was  to  have  been  a  dance  at  the  Assembly  room 
Tuesday  evening,  but  no  one  seemed  to  feel  like  dancing 
even  among  an  indomitable  few  of  the  lassies  and 
younger  officers  with  whom,  lads  and  lassies  both,  Sandy 
Ray  had  been  vastly  popular.  The  night  wore  on,  dark, 
overcast,  with  the  wind  blowing  fitfully  from  the  Saga 
more,  slamming  doors  in  resounding  hallways  and 
carrying  the  watch  calls  of  the  sentries  weirdly  over  the 
eastward  prairie.  Earlier  in  the  evening  little  groups 
appeared  in  some  few  of  the  verandas,  but  gradually 
broke  up  and  went  within  doors  long  before  the  signal 
"  Lights  out."  The  officer  of  the  day  and  the  adjutant, 
under  instruction  from  the  post  commander,  had  been 
questioning  the  three  worthies  who  had  been  out  the 
night  before  about  the  time  of  the  alleged  assault  on 
Captain  Foster.  To  a  man  they  stoutly  maintained  that 
the  signs  and  scars  of  battle,  borne  by  one  or  two  of 
their  number,  were  due  entirely  to  the  free-for-all  affair 
that  occurred  at  that  disreputable  dive  southwest  of 
Silver  Hill,  some  four  miles  away  from  the  post.  Vir 
tuously  were  they  indignant  that  anyone  should  suppose 
that  they  were  in  any  way  concerned  in  so  abominable 
a  transaction  as  the  "  doing-up  "  of  an  officer  of  the  army 
who  so  recently  had  been  the  guest  of  their  honored 
major.  But  two  of  them  were  troopers  with  shady 


184  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

records,  men  who  had  been  but  a  short  time  at  the 
station,  and  one  of  these  had  formerly  served  an  enlist 
ment  in  D wight's  old  regiment,  the  — th.  The  adjutant 
was  of  opinion  that  he  must  have  known  Foster  in  those 
days  and  might  well  have  been  one  of  quite  a  number  of 
men,  none  of  whom  liked  and  some  of  whom  hated  the 
imperious  and  abusive  lieutenant.  The  — th  had  had 
few  of  Foster's  stamp  since  the  days  of  Canker  and 
Gleason,  and  his  case  was  therefore  the  more  conspic 
uous.  The  two  officers  were  talking  of  this  as  slowly 
they  strolled  homeward  up  the  northwest  side  of  the 
parade,  when,  faint  and  wind-buffeted,  the  call  of  the 
sentry  at  the  main  gate  caught  their  ears.  No.  2  wanted 
the  corporal  and  No.  I  promptly  echoed,  although  already 
the  corporal  was  going  on  the  jump.  There  was  a  ring 
and  vim  to  the  cry  that  told  its  own  story.  The  sentry 
saw  something  that  demanded  instant  attention.  It  was 
not  half  a  minute  before  the  corporal  came  racing  back 
to  the  guard-house,  nor  a  full  minute  before  the  bugler 
of  the  guard  came  chasing  in  pursuit  of  the  officer  of 
the  day.  "  A  fire,  sir,"  he  cried,  "  'way  out  beyond  the 
Flats !  " 

Together  the  officers  hastened  eastward  across  the 
parade,  and  even  before  they  reached  the  gate  the  cause 
of  the  alarm  became  visible.  The  low-hanging,  swift- 
driven  clouds  blackening  the  valley  were  taking  on  a  lurid 
glare,  and,  once  at  the  gate  the  fire  could  be  distinctly 
seen.  "Well,  if  that  is  n't  a  blessing!  "  cried  the  adju- 


REACTION 

tant  gleefully.  "  It's  Skid's  old  hog  ranch,  as  sure  as 
you're  born !  " 

It  was  useless,  of  course,  to  send  aid  even  if  aid  had 
been  desirable.  Ever  since  Silver  Hill  became  the  county 
seat  and  a  mining  town  of  much  importance,  Skidmore's 
dive  had  been  the  bane  of  the  community.  Driven  from 
town  by  a  vigilance  committee  made  up  of  the  best  citi 
zens,  the  divekeeper  had  resumed  business  beyond  the 
corporate  limits  and  at  a  point  where  he  could  draw  cus 
tom  from  three  different  sources,  the  town,  the  fort  and 
the  agency,  for  only  a  few  miles  beyond  the  Cheyenne 
were  the  supply  depot  and  buildings  of  the  Minneconjou 
tribe,  their  brethren  of  Brule  being  far  over  to  the  south 
east  and  the  Ogalallas  at  Red  Cloud.  Many  a  desperate 
deed  had  been  charged  to  the  gang  ever  hovering  about 
these  unsavory  walls  of  Skidmore's,  many  a  poor  fellow 
had  been  beaten  and  drugged  and  robbed,  more  than  one 
good  soldier  had  met  his  death-blow  in  brutal  affray 
beneath  its  grimy  roof,  and  still  it  lived,  detested  but 
unhampered.  There  was  no  good  reason  why  the  fort 
should  send  a  soul  to  the  rescue  of  such  a  concern.  There 
was  many  a  reason  why  the  town  would  not.  Stone 
ordered  a  sergeant  with  a  small  party  to  ride  over,  "  See 
if  any  of  our  men  are  there  and  find  out  what  has  taken 
place  »and  the  extent  of  the  damage,"  which  he  hoped 
was  total,  "  and  report  on  your  return." 

It  was  after  twelve  when  they  got  back,  bringing  a 
grimy  fellow-soldier  who  had  had  a  narrow  escape,  the 


136  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

gratifying  intelligence  that  there  was  n't  so  much  as  a 
shingle  left  unconsumed,  and  the  unwelcome  annouce- 
ment  that  the  proprietor  said  he  did  n't  care  a  damn.  He 
had  leased  and  was  going  to  open  up  next  week,  anyhow, 
in  the  old  rookeries  at  the  ford,  right  under  the  nose  of 
Uncle  Sam,  yet  without  his  jurisdiction.  They  brought, 
also,  rather  a  remarkable  piece  of  news — the  wife  and 
daughter  of  the  manager  had  been  rescued  from  burn 
ing  alive  by  one  of  the  colonel's  own  men — Private 
Blenke,  of  Company  "  C." 


CHAPTER  XV 

RETRIBUTION 

WHOEVER  it  was  who  planned  or  placed  Fort 
Minneconjou,  one  blunder  at  least  could  be 
laid  at  his  door — that  it  had  enabled  the  enemy 
to  "  locate "  almost  at  the  door  of  the  fort.  An  odd 
condition  of  things  was  this  that  resulted  from  the 
discovery  of  precious  metals  in  the  magnificent  tract 
misnamed  the  Black  Hills — black  presumably  only  in  the 
dead  of  winter,  when  their  pine-crested  peaks  and  ridges 
stood  boldly  against  the  dazzling  white  of  the  Dakota 
snows.  In  '75  the  Sioux  had  bartered  their  secret  to 
chance  explorers,  and  Custer  came  down  with  his  scout 
ing  columns  and  confirmed  the  glittering  rumor.  In  '76 
the  Sioux  squared  accounts  with  Custer  afar  to  the  north 
west  in  the  affair  of  the  Little  Big  Horn,  but  while  they 
were  about  it  the  miner  and  settler  swarmed  in  behind 
and  staked  out  claims  and  cities  from  which  they  could 
never  be  driven,  for  Crook's  starved  horses  and  starving 
men  were  fortunately  so  numerous  they  kept  the  south 
ward  tribes  of  the  savage  confederation  too  busy  to 
bother  with  settlers.  They  could  be  settled  later,  after 
the  warriors  had  dealt  by  Crook  as  they  did  by  Custer. 
When  winter  came,  however,  with  Sitting  Bull  and  the 

187 


188  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

Uncapapas  thrust  beyond  the  British  line,  and  Crazy 
Horse,  raving,  done  to  death  by  the  steel  of  the  guard 
he  so  magnificently  defied,  with  Red  Cloud  disarmed  and 
deposed,  with  Dull  Knife  disabled,  with  Lame  Deer 
doubled  up  by  the  sturdy  Fifth  Infantry,  and  old  Two 
Moons  hiding  his  light  in  some  obscure  refuge  of  the 
wilderness,  and  the  old  men,  the  women  and  children 
herded  on  the  reservation  under  the  rifles  of  the  army 
and  the  young  men  scattered  or  slain,  there  was  nothing 
left  for  the  hard-fighting,  proud-spirited  lords  of  the 
Hills — Ogalalla,  Brule  and  Minneconjou — but  sullen  ac 
ceptance  of  the  great  father's  terms;  and  in  this  wise 
came  Silver  Hill  to  the  heart  of  the  fair  valley,  nestling 
under  the  screen  of  the  Sagamore  and  its  eastward  spurs 
and  the  shield  of  Uncle  Sam,  who  sliced  off  for  military 
purposes  a  block  from  the  Minneconjou  reserve,  and 
by  way  of  compliment  and  consolation  named  the  can 
tonment  therein  established  after  the  tribe  thereof  dis 
possessed.  All  went  swimmingly  for  the  emigrant,  the 
miner,  the  settler  and  the  subsequent  supremacy  of  the 
white  man  until  in  course  of  time  a  big  post  had  to  be 
built  to  replace  the  old  log  barracks,  and  from  motives 
of  economy,  in  order  to  reduce  to  a  minimum  the  ex 
pense  of  hauling  supplies  and  materials  of  the  quarter 
master's  department,  the  new  buildings  were  planted  at 
the  extreme  eastern  edge  of  the  reservation,  and  before 
the  first  coat  of  paint  was  dry  on  the  lintels  the  opposite 
bank  of  the  stream,  short  pistol  shot  from  the  line,  was 


RETRIBUTION  189 

planted  thick  with  shacks,  shanties  and  saloons,  and 
every  known  device  of  the  devil  to  prey  upon  the  soldier. 
In  the  five  years  that  followed,  that  particular  quarter 
section  of  what  soon  became  South  Dakota  was  a  storm 
center  of  villainy,  especially  when  the  bi-monthly  payday 
came  round.  By  scores  the  soldiers  were  drugged  and 
robbed,  by  dozens  they  were  beaten  and  bullied.  By 
twos  and  threes  they  were  set  upon,  slugged  and  not  in 
frequently  someone  was  murdered.  No  jury  could  be 
found  in  those  days  to  convict  a  civilian  of  any  crime 
against  the  life  or  property  of  a  servant  of  Uncle  Sam. 
There  came  a  time  when  two  of  the  best  men  of  the 
garrison,  veteran  sergeants,  having  been  shot  to  death 
in  cold  blood  by  a  brace  of  desperadoes  in  front  of  Skid- 
more's  saloon,  the  garrison  turned  out  almost  to  a  man. 
The  murderers  fled  to  town  on  the  horses  of  their  vic 
tims;  fifty  troopers  followed,  while  over  fifty  tore  Skid- 
more's  to  shreds.  Silver  Hill  had  a  riot  that  night,  in 
which  two  deputy  marshals  bit  the  dust;  so  did  two  or 
three  troopers,  but  that  did  n't  matter.  The  majesty  of 
the  law  that  turned  the  original  murderers  loose  had  been 
violated  by  a  brutal  and  ungovernable  soldiery,  six  of 
whom  were  later  surrendered  to  be  tried  for  their  crimes 
by  a  jury  of  their  sworn  enemies,  while  their  command 
ing  officer  was  tried  for  his  commission  by  a  jury  of 
his  peers.  The  soldiers  were  sent  to  civil  prison  and  the 
colonel  to  military  Coventry — estopped  from  further  pro 
motion,  and  Silver  Hill  (pronounced  with  an  "  e "  in 


190  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

those  days)  for  as  much  as  a  month  exulted  and  re 
joiced  with  exceeding  joy.  Then  a  new  general  came  to 
the  command.  Then  Silver  Hill  thrust  its  hands  deep 
in  its  pockets  and  whistled  in  dismay,  for  the  general's 
first  deed  was  to  order  Minneconjou's  big  garrison  into 
summer  camp  long  marches  away,  to  leave  only  men 
enough  at  the  post  to  take  care  of  the  property  and  thus 
to  defraud  the  denizens  of  fringing  settlement,  known  to 
the  Army  as  Thugtown,  of  some  thousands  per  mensem 
of  hard-earned  cash — very  hard.  Moreover,  when  win 
ter  set  in,  the  garrison  was  distributed  much  to  the  better 
ment  of  Meade,  Laramie,  Robinson,  Niobrara,  etc.,  and 
to  the  howling  protest  of  the  sturdy  settlers  of  Silver 
Hill,  "  thus  robbed,"  said  their  eloquent  representative 
in  Congress  assembled,  "  of  the  protection  assured  them 
by  the  national  government."  It  was  rich  to  hear  the 
appalling  description  given  that  December  of  the  perils 
and  privations  of  the  people  of  the  southwestern  section 
of  the  Dakotas.  The  Sioux  were  on  the  point  of  rising 
and  butchering  the  helpless  and  scattered  settlers,  said 
Senator  Bullion,  and  to  do  the  county  justice  it  must 
be  owned  that  it  did  its  level  best  to  stir  up  the  Minne- 
conjous,  but  those  "  troubled  waters  "  had  been  stirred 
too  much  in  the  past  and  refused  now  to  boil  over  at  the 
beck  of  the  politicians,  so  what  could  not  be  done  in  one 
way  was  worked  in  another.  The  cat,  in  shape  of  the 
command,  came  back,  and  with  the  onward  march  of 
civilization  men  and  women  of  a  higher  class  were  drawn 


RETRIBUTION  191 

to  Silver  Hill,  and  the  "e"   from  the  last  part  of  its 
name. 

And  then  in  army  circles  there  came  to  the  front  a 
man  with  a  head  on  his  shoulders  and  a  hand  on  the 
steering  gear.  In  the  interests  of  civilization  and  civilian 
dealers  Congress  had  cleaned  out  the  old-time  sutler 
shop,  which  was  no  deplorable  loss,  and  transferred  the 
traffic  of  his  successor,  the  post  trader,  to  his  ubiquitous 
rival,  the  publican.  "  The  soldier's  pay  comes  from  the 
people  and  should  return  to  the  people,"  said  the  advo 
cates  of  the  measure,  and  the  soldier  non-voter,  having 
about  as  many  friends  at  the  seat  of  government  as  a 
crow  in  a  corn  field,  matters  at  Minneconjou  speedily 
became  bad  as  ever,  for,  reform  having  started  at  Silver 
Hill,  the  gamblers  and  harpies  being  kicked  from  its 
corporate  limits,  these  philosophers, — the  flotsam  and 
jetsam  of  the  frontier, — lost  little  cash  and  less  time 
before  settling  again,  and  in  greater  numbers,  on  the 
skirts  of  Uncle  Sam. 

And  then  it  was  that,  after  a  year  or  two  of  turmoil  and 
trouble,  "  in  our  day  there  lived  a  man  "  who  solved  the 
problem,  dealt  rum,  the  flesh  and  the  devil  the  worst 
blow  known  to  the  combination,  and  started  under  the 
auspices  of  the  post  Exchange  the  common  sense  and 
only  successful  system  ever  tried  in  the  army,  known  to 
the  Press  and  its  civilian  readers  by  the  name  of  the 
Canteen. 

And  then  again  after  a  few  years  of  peace,  prosperity 


192  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

and  contentment,  good  order  and  discipline,  after  the 
man  whose  monument  is  inscribed  "  The  Soldier's 
Friend,"  his  good  work  finished,  was  gathered  to  his 
fathers,  the  resultant  years  of  thought  and  experiment 
were  overthrown  in  a  day.  A  congress  of  women  over 
mastered  a  congress  of  men.  Exit  the  Canteen:  Re- 
enter  the  grog  shop,  the  hell  and  the  hog  ranch.  Burned 
out  at  the  borders  of  Silver  Hill,  the  way  blazed  for  him 
and  his  vile  retinue  of  swindlers  and  strumpets  by  the 
best  intentions  that  ever  paved  the  streets  of  sheol,  back 
to  the  gates  of  Fort  Minneconjou  came  the  saloon  and  its 
concomitants — and  the  day  of  order  and  discipline  was 
done. 

"  I  would  n't  say  a  word  against  it,"  protested  Colonel 
Stone  to  the  grave-faced  Inspector  sent  out  from  St. 
Paul  to  investigate  the  first  killing,  "  if,  when  they  shut 
up  our  shop  they  had  shut  up  those ! "  and  with  clinching 
fist  he  struck  savagely  at  empty  space  and  the  swarming 
row  of  ramshackle  tenements  beyond  the  stream.  "  Of 
what  earthly  good  was  it  to  anybody,  I  ask  you, — except 
the  distiller  and  dealer  in  liquors, — to  close  our  guarded, 
homelike  tables  and  reopen  that  unlimited  unlicensed 
hell?" 

A  new  road  to  Silver  Hill,  albeit  roundabout,  had  be 
come  a  necessity.  The  old  well-worn  beeline  through 
by  way  of  the  ford  had  become  impracticable  for  women 
and  children  and  self-respecting  people  in  general.  It 
was  skirted  for  some  two  hundred  yards  by  tenements 


RETRIBUTION  193 

and  tenants  not  easily  described  in  these  pages.  The 
colonel  had  been  jeered  at  by  painted  sirens  at  upper 
windows.  Priscilla  Sanford,  starting  one  morning  to 
town,  turned  crimson  at  the  shrill  acclaim  of  the  scarlet 
sisterhood,  two  of  whom  had  kissed  their  hands  to  her. 
Stone,  when  he  heard  of  it,  would  have  leveled  the 
shack  with  the  ground,  but  the  mournful  plight  of  his 
predecessor,  condemned  for  not  preventing  what  Stone 
would  almost  precipitate,  gave  him  timely  pause.  Sandy 
might  have  sallied  forth  and  shot  somebody  not  femi 
nine,  but  Sandy  was  still  in  arrest.  The  paymaster  had 
come  and  gone.  So  had  most  of  the  money ;  so,  worse 
luck,  after  two  days  of  salooning,  had  gone  no  less  than 
fifty  of  the  garrison.  In  nearly  two  years  Minneconjou 
had  not  had  as  many  desertions  as  resulted  from  those 
two  days. 

But,  sorrowful  to  relate,  among  the  first  to  go  and  the 
last  to  be  heard  from  were  two  of  Priscilla's  trusties — 
gone  no  man  could  say  whither — and  in  addition  to  this 
catastrophe  something  had  strangely,  surely  gone  amiss 
with  her  paragon,  Blenke — Blenke  the  scholarly,  Blenke 
the  writer  and  linguist — and  Priscilla's  world  was  reeling 
under  her  well-shod  feet. 

To  begin  with,  how  came  Blenke,  the  impeccable,  the 
would-be  candidate  for  transfer  to  the  cavalry  and 
aspirant  for  commission,  to  be  sojourning  even  for  an 
hour  at  so  disreputable  a  spot  as  Skidmore's  ?  Blenke,  it 
will  be  remembered,  had  a  forty-eight  hour  pass  to  enable 


194  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

him  to  visit  Rapid  City  on  important  personal  business. 
Blenke  was  supposed  to  have  taken  the  westbound  Flyer 
on  Monday — the  Flyer  that  flew  five  hours  late.  Blenke 
was  supposed  to  be  spending  all  Tuesday,  or  most  of  it, 
in  the  heart  of  the  Hills.  Blenke  was  not  due  at  the 
post  until  the  afternoon  of  Wednesday,  and  was  not  ex 
pected  to  leave  Rapid  City  until  Wednesday  morning; 
yet  here  he  was,  oi  all  places  in  the  world,  at  that  hog 
ranch  on  Tuesday  night.  Stone  sent  a  patrol  over  at 
i  A.  M.  with  a  spare  horse  and  invitation  for  Private 
Blenke  to  return  at  once  and  account  for  his  eccentric 
orbit  at  office  hours  in  the  morning.  The  patrol  trotted 
over,  nothing  loath,  but  Blenke  had  disappeared.  "  Gone 
to  town  for  a  doctor,"  said  the  abandoned  few  still  grop 
ing  about  the  smoldering  ruins.  So  the  patrol  re 
turned  without  him.  It  was  represented  that  Blenke  had 
scorched  his  face,  singed  ofif  his  eyebrows  and  burned 
his  hands  in  his  gallant  essay  to  save  the  women.  But 
this  was  all  hearsay  evidence. 

When  Blenke  did  appear  on  Wednesday  afternoon  his 
hands  were  bandaged,  his  face  was  disfigured  a  bit,  but 
his  eyes  were  as  deep  and  mournful,  his  dignity  and 
self-poise  quite  as  unimpeachable,  as  before.  He  seemed 
grieved,  indeed,  that  his  captain  and  colonel  both  so 
sharply  questioned  him.  He  had  intended  going  to 
Rapid  City,  but  at  the  last  moment  in  town  received  in 
formation  rendering  his  visit  unnecessary,  indeed  inad 
visable.  A  man  with  whom  he  had  had  business  asso- 


RETRIBUTION  195 

ciations  in  the  past,  and  who  owed  him  much  money,  had 
been  there,  but  had  headed  him  off  by  promising  to  meet 
him  in  Silver  Hill.  The  train  came,  but  not  the  man, 
yet  the  conductor  said  such  a  man  had  boarded  the  train 
at  the  Junction  and  must  have  dropped  off  as  they 
slowed  up  for  town  after  passing  Bonner's  Bluff.  Blenke 
had  spent  most  of  Monday  night  and  all  of  Tuesday  in 
further  search.  Tuesday  evening  came  a  clue.  The 
evasive  "  party  "  had  been  seen  at  Skid's  drinking  heavily, 
and  Blenke  hastened  thither  in  partial  disguise,  he  said, 
and  was  there  when  late  Tuesday  night  the  shrieks  from 
'Skidmore's  private  quarters  told  of  peril.  The  drunken 
crowd  in  the  bar  at  first  took  no  heed.  Shrieks  were 
things  of  frequent  occurrence,  but  Blenke  had  rushed, 
found  the  shack  all  ablaze  within,  and  with  difficulty  and 
much  personal  risk  had  succeeded  in  pulling  out  Mrs. 
Skidmore  and  her  terrified  child. 

Blenke  by  manner,  not  by  words,  continued  to  convey 
to  his  inquisitors  that  he  took  it  much  amiss  that  a  soldier 
who  had  done  such  credit  to  his  uniform  and  the  service 
should  on  his  return  be  subjected  to  such  rigid  cross- 
questioning,  and  be  treated  with  such  obvious  suspicion. 
But  both  colonel  and  captain  had  more  to  ask.  Had  he 
seen  aught  of  the  trio  from  the  fort  who  claimed  to  have 
spent  Monday  evening  at  Skidmore's?  Blenke  declared 
he  had  not.  He  had  spent  that  evening  searching  about 
town ;  but  he  had  heard  of  them,  yes.  There  was  no  little 
talk  among  the  cowboys,  tramps,  toughs,  and  ranchmen 


196  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

in  and  about  Skidmore's  concerning  a  party  of  soldiers 
that  had  been  there  hours  Monday  evening  "  raising  the 
devil."  There  had  been  a  rough-and-tumble  fight,  too, 
but  Blenke  virtuously  disclaimed  all  personal  knowledge 
of  the  men  or  their  misdemeanors.  Asked  to  name  some 
of  the  places  he  had  visited  Monday  evening  and  Tuesday 
in  town,  Blenke  unhesitatingly  mentioned  as  many  as  a 
dozen.  The  adjutant  jotted  them  down,  and  when  the 
colonel  sent  an  officer  in  to  investigate,  it  was  found  that 
Blenke's  statement,  like  his  manner,  was  irreproachable. 
Morever,  it  was  found  by  the  testimony  of  certain 
hangers-on  at  Skidmore's  that  the  story  told  by  the  incar 
cerated  trio  was  equally  true.  They  had  been  seen  about 
the  premises,  drinking,  card-playing,  loafing,  early  in  the 
evening,  and  "  off  and  on  "  all  of  the  evening,  until  toward 
10:30  o'clock  they  became  so  ugly  and  quarrelsome  and 
had  so  little  money  left  that  Skid  refused  them  further 
admission,  even  to  wash  the  blood  from  their  battered 
faces.  If  the  purpose  of  the  examination  was  to  connect 
these  men,  any  of  them,  with  the  assault  upon  Foster,  it 
had  certainly  failed. 

Even  when  Foster's  verbatim  statement  came,  duly 
type-written  and  vouched  for,  and  further  examination 
was  made,  and  Blenke  and  the  three  worthies  were  further 
investigated,  nothing  was  admitted  and  little  learned. 
Foster's  statement  was  read  by  the  adjutant  and  received 
in  grim  silence  by  the  colonel  and  one  or  two  seniors  called 
in  for  the  occasion.  Smarting  under  the  indignity  with 


RETRIBUTION  197 

which  he  had  been  treated,  said  Foster,  and  finding  the 
Flyer  would  not  be  along  before  ten  or  half-past  ten,  he 
decided  to  take  a  buggy,  drive  out  to  the  post  and  seek 
an  interview  with  the  colonel  and  certain  other  officers. 
It  was  due  to  his  honor  that  his  statement  be  heard.  He 
ordered  his  traps  sent  to  the  train,  so  that  if  delayed  he 
could  drive  thither  at  once,  or  even  have  the  ranchman 
caretaker  at  Fort  Siding  "  flag  the  train."  Barely  two 
miles  out  from  town  he  overtook  some  soldiers  apparently 
drunk ;  one  of  them  reeled  almost  under  his  horse's  nose ; 
he  pulled  up  in  dismay,  and  instantly  they  attacked  him 
on  all  sides  at  once.  He  was  knocked  senseless,  and  when 
he  came  to  himself  they  were  all  out  on  the  southward 
prairie.  He  could  see  the  lights  of  the  fort  far  away. 
He  was  propped  against  a  wheel  and  they  were  wrangling 
among  themselves.  He  was  bleeding,  dazed,  had  been 
cruelly  beaten,  but  his  wits  were  returning.  The  moon 
light  was  clear,  and  suddenly,  in  a  row  that  broke  out 
among  them,  they  fell  upon  each  other,  and  a  young, 
slight-looking  man,  who  seemed  to  be  their  leader,  in 
striving  to  quell  the  row,  lost  the  handkerchief  that  hid 
his  face.  His  light  raincoat  was  torn  open,  revealing  the 
uniform  of  a  lieutenant  of  cavalry.  The  form,  features, 
the  dark  little  mustache,  all  that  he  could  see,  were 
certainly  those  of  Lieutenant  Ray.  Staggering  to  his 
feet,  he  unhappily  drew  their  attention  again  to  himself, 
and  then  he  was  slugged  and  knocked  senseless  and  knew 
no  more  until  he  was  being  helped  aboard  the  Pullman. 


198  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

One  of  the  men  he  vaguely  remembered  having  seen 
before,  but  the  only  one  of  the  party  he  could  have 
recognized  was  Lieutenant  Ray.  All  Minneconjou,  he 
said,  knew  of  the  fracas  between  them  that  day ;  but  few, 
perhaps,  had  heard  the  lieutenant's  threats,  and  in  this 
brutal  fashion  had  he  fulfilled  them. 

Copies  of  this,  of  course,  had  gone  to  Department 
Headquarters.  The  commander  was  expected  back  at 
the  end  of  the  week  from  his  tour  of  inspection  at  Yel 
lowstone  Park.  Sandy  could  not  be  held  in  close  arrest 
beyond  the  eighth  day ;  but  that  the  affair  would  have  to 
be  thoroughly  investigated  by  general  court  everybody 
felt  and  said.  Indeed,  Ray  himself  would  be  content  with 
nothing  less.  But  what  a  solemn  time  was  this  for 
Marion,  his  devoted  mother;  indeed  for  all  at  Minne 
conjou. 

Up  at  the  "  ranking  "  end  of  the  row  Oswald  Dwight 
lay  in  the  grasp  of  a  burning  fever  that,  coupled  with 
what  had  gone  before,  had  weakened  his  reason  and 
might  well  end  his  life.  Under  the  same  roof,  visited  at 
intervals  by  the  charitable,  the  sympathetic  or  the  merely 
inquisitive  of  their  sex  and  station,  Mrs.  Dwight  and  her 
inseparable  companion,  Felicie,  made  their  moan  and  told 
their  woeful  tale  to  all  comers.  Inez  had  been,  she 
said,  suffering  all  the  torments  of  purgatory,  and  to  many 
eyes  she  looked  it.  Her  husband,  in  his  mad  delirium, 
would  not  have  her  near  him :  he  raved  of  the  wife  of  his 
youth.  She  wept  for  his  boy  who  had  been  taken  from 


RETRIBUTION  199 

her,  his  proper,  his  natural,  his  legal  protector  at  such  a 
time.  Inez  was  horrified  to  think  of  the  outrage  upon 
Captain  Foster,  their  attached  and  devoted  friend.  Inez 
would  never  believe,  she  said,  that  such  a  gentleman  as 
Mr.  Ray  could  stoop  to  so  vile  a  vengeance,  to  the  level 
of  the  assassin,  but  Felicie  had  other  views.  The  episode 
of  that  blood-stained  gauntlet  had  been  by  no  means  for 
gotten,  and  was  dinned  into  the  ears  of  those  who  would 
listen,  with  infinite  vim  and  pertinacity;  this,  too,  despite 
the  fact  that  Ray  denied  having  worn  gauntlets  that 
evening — having  worn  them,  in  fact,  that  summer.  They 
were  no  longer  "  uniform  "  for  cavalry  officers,  and  he 
had  not  set  eyes  on  that  glove  or  its  mate  for  over  a 
month.  Possibly  during  the  move  from  the  major's 
quarters  to  the  humble  home  of  the  subaltern,  but  cer 
tainly  somehow,  Ray  had  lost  several  items  that,  before 
the  change  in  uniform,  had  been  in  frequent  use,  but  of 
late  would  hardly  be  missed,  and  of  these  were  the 
gauntlets. 

So  there  was  distress — anxiety — sorrowing  in  more 
than  one  of  the  many  households  at  Minneconjou,  and 
in  the  midst  of  it  all  Priscilla,  who  had  thought  her  bur 
den,  self-inflicted  though  it  was,  quite  as  much  as  she 
could  bear,  was  confronted  with  another.  Blenke,  who 
had  been  nervous,  excitable,  almost  ill  on  the  very  few 
occasions  she  had  seen  him  since  his  return ;  Blenke,  who 
had  promised  to  confide  to  her,  his  benefactress,  the 
cause  of  his  worries,  the  story  of  his  woes ;  Blenke,  whose 


200  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

mournful  eyes  had  blazed  with  a  fine  fury  when  told  by 
Hogan,  who  could  n't  abide  him,  of  Miss  Sanford's  salu 
tation  from  the  window  of  the  reoccupied  rookery  at  the 
ford ;  Blenke,  who  could  never  set  foot  on  the  floor  of  the 
Canteen,  turned  up  missing  one  night  at  check  rollcall, 
two  hours  after  taps,  was  suddenly  and  most  unexpectedly 
stumbled  on  by  the  officer  of  the  day  making  his  rounds 
at  3  A.  M.  :  not,  as  might  have  happened  to  men  of  less 
indomitable  virtue,  coming  from  the  direction  of  Skid- 
more's,but  almost  at  the  very  opposite  end  of  the  garrison, 
at  the  rear  gateway  of  the  field  officers'  quarters,  No.  2,  so 
obviously  obfuscated,  so  utterly  limp,  that  he  could  give 
no  account  of  himself  whatever,  was  wheeled  to  the 
guard-house  in  a  police  cart  and  dumped  on  the  slanting 
bunk  of  the  prison  room  with  a  baker's  dozen  of  the 
"  Skidmore  guard "  sleeping  off  their  unaccustomed 
drunk. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
MY  LADY'S  MAID 

IT  proved  the  last  pound  that  broke  the  back  of  Pris- 
cilla's  stubborn  resistance.  Men  and  women  who 
had  found  much  to  condemn  in  Miss  Sanford,  who 
had  disseminated  and  discussed  the  tale  of  her  cor 
respondence  with  the  Banner  and  the  talk  that  followed, 
who  had  heard  with  indignation  that  it  was  after  Dwight's 
conference  with  Miss  Sanford  that  he  so  furiously 
punished  little  Jim  (for,  as  we  know,  Mrs.  Thornton  had 
assured  everybody  that  so  far  as  she  was  concerned  she 
had  done  her  utmost  to  make  the  major  understand  that 
Jimmy  never  did  it  on  purpose),  who  had  felt  the  lash 
of  her  over-candid  comment  on  their  social  or  parental 
shortcomings,  now  had  no  little  malicious  merriment  to 
add  to  the  deservedly  hard  things  they  had  said  of  her. 
For  a  fortnight,  probably,  Miss  Sanford  had  been  the 
most  unpopular  woman  that  Minneconjou's  oldest  inhab 
itant  could  name ;  but  the  men  and  women  who  saw  her 
as  one  after  another  she  faced  the  results  of  her  most  con 
fident  efforts,  began  to  feel  for  the  lonely,  sorrowing 
maiden  a  respect  and  sympathy  denied  her  before.  It 
was  plain  that  Priscilla  was  well-nigh  crushed,  and 
"  when  women  weep "  and  are  desolate  and  hopeless 

201 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

resentment  turns  to  pity  and  blame  to  words  of  cheer. 
No  one,  of  course,  was  ever  told  by  Mrs.  Ray  or  by 
Sandy  of  what  had  passed  in  the  sanctity  of  the  family 
circle,  but  in  her  humility  and  contrition  Priscilla  spoke 
of  it  to  Mrs.  Stone  and  to  others,  who  soon  came  to  try 
to  show  her  she  was  forgiven.  There  were  a  few  days 
after  Dwight's  fever  in  which  she  seemed  utterly  heart 
broken,  and  Mrs.  Ray  believed  her  seriously  ill.  There  were 
days  in  which  she  begged  Aunt  Marion  to  send  her  home, 
when,  really,  she  had  no  home;  to  send  her  East,  then, 
wrhere  she  could  begin  anew  and  work  her  way  in  the 
world.  If  it  came  to  the  worst,  Maidie  Stuyvesant  would 
keep  her  from  starving.  But  Aunt  Marion  would  listen 
to  no  such  proposition.  Priscilla  must  stay  with  her 
and  at  Minneconjou  and  live  down  the  unhappy  repute. 
Aunt  Marion  knew  how  very  much  genuine  good  there 
was  in  Priscilla  when  once  she  could  rid  herself  of  that 
propensity  ever  to  correct,  criticise,  and  condemn;  nor 
had  Minneconjou  been  slow  to  see  this  and  to  speak  of 
it.  Now  that  the  tide  was  turning,  by  dozens  they  came 
to  talk  of  her  real  charity,  her  devotion  to  the  sick  and 
sorrowing,  the  hours  she  had  given — was  ever  ready  to 
give — to  reading  to  the  bed-ridden  and  helpless  in  hos 
pital  or  the  humble  quarters  of  the  married  soldiers. 
Men  who  had  laughed  among  themselves  at  her  lecturing 
and  preaching  took  to  snubbing  men  who  spoke  in  dis 
paragement  of  her  motives.  One  thing  was  certain, 
whether  they  shared  her  views  or  not,  all  Minneconjou 


MY    LADY'S    MAID  203 

believed  in  her  sincerity,  and  soldiers  honor  those  who 
fight  and  suffer  for  their  convictions.  Of  Priscilla  it 
might  therefore  be  said  she  had  made  friends  in  spite 
of  herself,  and  though  hardened  sinners  at  the  mess  and 
humor-loving  husbands  in  the  quarters  did  indulge  in 
little  flings  at  the  ultimate  and  inevitable  failure  of  all 
feminine  meddlings  in  matters  that  were  purely  military, 
there  were  few,  indeed,  after  the  first  mirthful  explosions, 
who  having  seen  her  sorrowful  face  did  not  feel  genu 
ine  sympathy  for  her  in  the  collapse  of  her  Anti-Canteen 
Soldiers'  Benevolent  Association. 

For  with  Blenke's  fall  Priscilla  was  left  indeed  lament 
ing  and  alone. 

Something  of  a  cause  celebre  was  that  of  Blenke's 
when  it  came  to  trial.  The  summary  court  officer  had 
had  his  hands  full  since  payday.  The  number  of  cases 
of  absence  without  leave,  drunkenness,  disorder,  and 
disrespect  to  non-commissioned  officers,  etc.,  had  sex- 
tupled.  All  were  what  might  be  called  typical  cases,  and 
traceable,  as  a  rule,  to  Skidmore's;  but  Blenke's,  like 
Blenke  himself,  wras  individual  and  peculiar.  Moreover, 
it  savored  of  the  mysterious. 

The  man  seemed  overwhelmed  with  mortification  and 
distress.  No  one  at  Minneconjou  had  ever  known  him 
to  take  so  much  as  a  glass  of  wine.  No  one  at  Minnecon 
jou  among  either  officers  or  men  ever  really  knew  him  at 
all,  for  Blenke  kept  his  own  counsel,  lived  entirely  to 
himself,  was  neat  as  a  new  pin,  prompt  and  accurate  on 


204*  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

duty,  smart  in  dress — more  so  than  many  of  his  officers, 
if  truth  be  told — ready,  respectful  and  in  fine  a  model 
soldier.  But  he  had  no  friends  nor  intimates ;  he  had  no 
confidants,  unless  we  except  Priscilla,  to  whom  he  had 
told  much  more  than  Sandy  Ray,  when  told,  would  for 
a  moment  believe.  He  came  before  the  court  after  two 
days'  incarceration,  neat  and  trim  as  though  just  off 
inspection.  He  stood  with  swimming  eyes  before  the 
desk,  pleaded  guilty  throughout,  declined  to  summon  a 
soul  to  say  a  good  word  for  him  or  his  general  character, 
would  not  even  glance  at  the  group  of  officers  hovering 
inquisitively  about,  would  not  even  plead  "  first  offense  " 
or  urge  a  syllable  in  mitigation  of  sentence,  even  though 
the  allegations  against  him,  as  the  court  intimated  to  his 
captain,  "  seemed  piling  it  on."  One  specification  might 
well  have  covered  the  entire  tale  of  his  misdoing,  but  he 
stood  accused  of  absence  from  quarters  between  taps  and 
reveille,  of  presence  in  premises  where  he  had  no  possible 
right  to  be,  and  finally  of  utter  drunkenness.  Blenke 
pleaded  guilty  to  all,  and  humbly  said  that,  had  there 
been  more  accusation,  he  would  have  done  the  same,  for 
he  knew  nothing  of  what  occurred  after  fifteen  minutes 
at  Skidmore's  somewhere  toward  midnight. 

Now,  the  court  wished  to  know  and  the  listeners 
wished  to  hear  some  explanation  of  his  having  turned 
up  so  far  from  the  beaten  track ;  of  his  having,  when  so 
drunk,  managed  to  walk  so  far;  of  his  having,  in  fine, 
entered  the  yard  of  Major  Dwight's  quarters.  What 


MY    LADY'S    MAID  £05 

could  have  suggested  that?  But  Blenke  knew  no  more 
than  the  dead.  The  only  quarters  of  late  he  ever  visited 
were  those  of  Lieutenant  Ray,  where,  said  Blenke — and 
here  the  woe  in  his  visage  was  indeed  pathetic — he  should 
never  again  dare  show  his  face.  Time  had  been — a  happy 
time — when  he  had  daily,  almost  hourly,  duties  at  the 
quarters  now  occupied  by  Major  D wight,  whom  he  so 
honored ;  but  that  was  while  his  kind  friends  of  Lieutenant 
Ray's  household  were  still  the  occupants.  Possibly  in 
his  dazed  condition  that  memory  was  working  in  what 
was  left  of  his  brain.  There  was  nothing  to  excuse  or 
explain  his  wandering  thither  now,  said  Blenke.  He 
had  no  mercy  to  ask.  He  deserved  none.  So  the  case 
was  closed  with  a  sizable  fine,  and  the  accused  sent  back 
to  his  company. 

But  the  officer  of  the  day  had  told  a  different  tale,  and 
the  godless  array  at  the  bachelor  mess  was  still  having 
fun  with  it.  Felicie,  the  self-styled  French  maid,  had 
been  from  the  start  the  object  of  no  little  interest  among 
the  non-commissioned  element  in  garrison.  Felicie  was 
pious,  if  not  actually  pretty,  and  assiduous  at  first  in  Sun 
day  morning  attendance  at  the  little  Catholic  church  in 
town,  whither  Dwight's  own  horse  and  buggy  and  man 
were  detailed  to  take  her,  for  Inez  could  not  think  of 
placing  her  educated  and  traveled  maid  in  the  same  cate 
gory  and  wagon  with  the  soldiers'  wives.  "  Feelissy," 
from  her  very  first  appearance,  was  by  no  means  popular 
with  this  critical  sisterhood,  and  when  it  became  evident 


206  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

that  some  of  the  best  beaux  among  the  sergeants  were 
also  moved  to  attend  early  church  in  Silver  Hill,  feeling 
grew  strong  against  the  usurper.  Nor  was  the  feeling 
modified  by  the  fact  soon  discovered  that  the  maid  had 
higher  aspirations.  She  was  too  good  for  the  soldiers, 
said  her  commentators;  but  that  goodness,  said  her 
defamers,  was  n't  proof  against  the  wiles  of  those  who 
had  more  money.  Obviously  the  officers  were  aimed  at 
in  this  observation,  and  it  must  be  owned  that  Felicie's 
expressive  eyes  had  sometimes  wandered  toward  the 
mess,  and  that  her  glances  fell  not  all  on  unresponsive 
others.  The  night  of  Blenke's  wandering  was  windy. 
The  officer  of  the  day's  little  lantern  blew  out  as  he 
rounded  a  turn  from  the  west  gate  toward  the  bluff 
behind  the  post  of  No.  4,  to  the  end  that  he  stumbled  on 
the  sentry  unchallenged,  and,  when  rebuked  for  his 
negligence,  the  sentry  said  he  was  troubled  about  some 
thing  at  Major  Dwight's.  He  could  have  sworn,  he  said, 
the  door  to  the  high  back  stoop  had  opened  just  a  moment 
ago,  letting  quite  a  streak  of  light  into  the  darkness  for 
the  space  of  a  few  seconds,  during  which  time  he  was 
almost  sure  he  saw  a  slender  feminine  shape  disappear 
into  the  house.  Now,  he  could  swear  no  one  had  entered 
the  back  gate  for  ten  minutes,  anyway,  because  he  hap 
pened  to  be  right  there.  If  it  was  a  woman,  as  he 
believed,  she  must  have  been  out  in  the  yard  as  much  as 
those  ten  minutes,  and  perhaps  someone  was  there  with 
her  that  should  n't  be  there.  All  this  had  the  sentry 


MY    LADY'S    MAID  207 

urged  in  excuse  of  his  failure  to  hear  the  approach  of 
the  officer  of  the  day.  It  was  a  black,  moonless,  starless 
night,  and  the  officer  concluded  to  look.  The  board  fence 
was  high.  He  stepped  within  the  gate,  stumbled  over  a 
loose  plank,  made  quite  a  noise  and  said  a  few  audibly 
profane  things  as  to  the  quartermaster's  department  for 
leaving  walks  in  such  shape,  but  he  could  see  nothing. 
So  in  a  sheltered  nook  he  struck  a  match,  and  the  instant 
he  did  so  a  man  from  the  shadows  lurched  heavily  against 
him,  muttered,  "  Giv'sh — light — o'  man  "  and  sprawled  in 
a  heap  at  his  feet.  It  proved  to  be  Blenke,  and  Blenke 
proved  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  court  that  he  was  blind 
drunk. 

But  the  officer  of  the  day  and  his  comrades  at  the  mess 
were  beginning  to  see  light,  as  did  the  sentry  on  No.  4. 
Was  it  possible  that  Felicie,  who  scorned  the  advances 
of  the  more  prominent  of  the  rank  and  file,  and  had 
become  an  object  of  no  little  interest  even  to  certain 
susceptible  subalterns — had,  after  all,  reserved  her  smiles 
for  the  dark-eyed,  mournful,  and  romantic  Blenke?  If 
so,  then  Blenke  had  played  the  part  of  a  man  with  the 
skill  of  a  consummate  actor. 

"  I've  seen  Willard ;  I've  seen  Wyndham/'  said  the 
puzzled  captain,  "  and  I  thought  I'd  seen  '  David  Garrick  ' 
played  to  perfection,  but  if  Private  Beauty  Blenke,  of 
Company  '  C,'  Sixty-first  Foot,  was  n't  drunk  as  a  lord  that 
night,  then  Willard  and  Wyndham  are  n't  in  the  business." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

A   MOMENTOUS   DAY 

A  WEEK, — another  long  week, — went  by  at  Min- 
neconjou,  and  Major  Dwight  at  last  was  declared 
out  of  danger,  though  a  badly  shattered  man. 
Mrs.  Dwight,  who  should  have  shown  corresponding 
improvement,  seemed,  however,  not  so  well.  Just  in 
proportion  as  the  major  mended,  his  wife  appeared 
to  fail.  Both  doctors  persisted  in  the  belief  that  her 
case  was  one  of  nerves  entirely.  There  was  nothing 
organically  wrong.  She  had  been  under  a  great  strain, 
of  course,  and  her  husband,  in  his  lucid  moments,  as  well 
as  in  those  of  delirium,  had  shown  strong  antipathy  to  her 
presence  in  the  sick  room.  They  had  persuaded  her, 
without  much  difficulty,  that  it  were  better  she  kept  away, 
and  though  pathetically,  properly  grieved,  she  obeyed. 
Something,  however,  was  preying  upon  her — something 
she  could  not  and  would  not  confide  to  Mrs.  Stone  and 
other  sympathetic  would-be  consolers.  "  Madame  was 
distressed  at  ill  news  from  her  parents,"  Felicie  had  gone 
so  far  as  to  admit,  but  the  ill  news  did  not  seem  to  refer 
to  illness,  for  there  had  been  frequent  letters  addressed 
in  Farrell's  sprawling  fist,  or  the  senora's  precise  chirog- 

208 


A    MOMENTOUS    DAY  209 

raphy,  and  of  late  these  had  begun  to  be  supplemented 
by  telegrams. 

In  all  this  fortnight  of  alternating  hope  and  anxiety 
Mrs.  Ray  had,  with  proper  inquiries,  called  but  twice. 
She  could  do  no  less.  She  would  do  no  more.  Mrs. 
Dwight  occasionally  appeared  for  an  afternoon  drive  now, 
but  always  with  Felicie  by  her  side  in  the  phaeton — 
never,  now  that  her  husband's  guest  and  wits  were  gone, 
with  a  man.  Other  companionship  might  have  been  bet 
ter  for  her,  it  was  generally  suggested,  but  she  seemed 
to  shrink  from  the  conversation  and,  possibly,  the  interro 
gations  of  those  of  her  own  sex  and  social  caste. 

Great  was  the  surprise,  therefore,  when  a  polite  and 
perfumed  note  came  to  the  Rays  for  Miss  Priscilla  San- 
ford,  and  would  Miss  Sanford  do  Mrs.  Dwight  the  great 
kindness  to  drive  with  her  that  day?  Priscilla,  who 
knew  not  why,  and  who  would  gladly  have  avoided  her, 
ordinarily,  was  now  doing  universal  penance  according  to 
her  lights,  and  would  have  gone  driving  with  a  Jezebel. 
Priscilla  accepted,  and  Felicie,  for  the  first  time,  was 
left  at  home. 

Sandy  Ray's  health  had  been  suffering,  and  Stone  saw 
it,  and  of  his  own  motion  came  over  and  said  he  con 
sidered  it  necessary  that  Mr.  Ray  should  take  exercise. 
Walking  being  painful,  the  colonel  said  ride,  and,  despite 
his  arrest,  riding  anywhere  within  five  miles'  limit  of  the 
flagstaff.  Sandy  thanked  him,  but  really  tried  to  sulk 
and  stay  home,  until  the  mother's  gentle  appeal  pre- 


210  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

vailed  and  he  began  as  the  colonel  had  suggested.  There 
were  men  who  thought  the  general  would  "  row  "  Stone 
for  such  indulgence  to  a  man  under  serious  charges,  but 
Stone  said  he  knew  his  business — and  the  general.  He 
would  neither  argue  nor  defend  his  position,  but  he  would 
like  to  bet  two  to  one  the  general  would  approve.  It  was 
rumored  the  general  himself  thought  of  running  out  to 
Minneconjou  and  perhaps  away  to  Wister  and  looking 
into  matters  along  the  lower  line,  having  but  recently 
returned  from  a  look  along  the  upper.  The  court  had 
not  yet  been  ordered.  It  was  believed  that  the  charges 
might  still  be  withdrawn,  so  difficult  was  it  to  believe 
Sandy  Ray  capable  of  such  a  crime.  But  Ray  insisted 
on  trial,  said  he  desired  the  most  rigid  investigation,  and 
could  never  be  content  without.  It  was  a  most  unsatis 
factory  situation,  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  and,  with 
no  duty  to  perform,  no  drill  to  stir  his  blood,  nothing  to 
do  but  try  to  comfort  mother,  reassure  Maidie,  who  was 
writing  every  day  or  two,  watch  for  the  coming  of  the 
mail  from  Manila  and  the  detail  for  his  court,  Sandy  Ray 
was  growing  morbid. 

He  was  gone  and  loping  up  the  valley  when  the  phaeton 
with  pale-faced,  languid  Mrs.  Dwight  stopped  at  the  door 
for  Miss  Sanford.  Ray  did  not  wish  to  see  her.  He 
had  not  seen  her  to  speak  to  since  the  night  before 
Dwight's  breakdown,  as  that  episode  by  common  consent 
was  now  referred  to.  He  had  altered  his  manner  toward 
Priscilla,  though  resentment  still  rankled,  because  of  her 


A    MOMENTOUS    DAY 

almost  dependent  position  under  their  roof.  Had  Pris- 
cilla  owned  enough  money  to  take  her  hack  to  the  sea 
board  States,  and  had  then  remained,  Sandy,  perhaps, 
would  have  found  forgiveness  beyond  him.  Even  now 
he  raged  at  heart  when  he  thought  of  her  willful  exag 
geration  as  to  the  Canteen,  her  utter  misrepresentation 
of  facts — especially  as  to  his  father.  Again  and  again 
he  owned  to  his  mother  he  felt  like  shaking  Priscilla 
whenever  he  looked  at  little  Jim,  who  so  often  now 
became  his  companion  on  these  daily  rides.  Once  or 
twice,  when  the  patient  was  sleeping  soundly,  the  doctors 
had  taken  the  lad  to  his  bedside,  but  the  meeting  between 
them  was  yet  to  come.  Dwight  was  still  too  weak  for 
experiments,  and  how  he  would  bear  it  all  when  stronger 
was  a  matter  of  grave  conjecture. 

But  on  this  particular  day  when  the  phaeton  came  for 
Priscilla,  little  Jim  had  again  been  trouting  with  Sergeant 
French  and,  as  luck  would  have  it,  came  dancing  in  with 
his  basket  of  prizes  to  show  Aunt  Marion  just  as  Pris 
cilla  descended  from  her  room,  dressed  for  the  drive. 
Three  weeks  agone  Priscilla  would  have  reproved  his 
entering  without  first  washing  his  hands  and  smoothing 
his  hair.  To-day  she  bent  and  hurriedly  kissed  his  flushed 
and  happy  face,  and  he  looked  up  astonished.  They 
had  never  let  him  know — they  could  not  bear  to  speak  of 
— Priscilla's  share  in  the  events  of  that  tragic  morning, 
and  when  in  her  downright  honesty  Priscilla  would  have 
sought  and  told  him,  Aunt  Marion  forbade.  The  boy 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

who  formerly  shrank  from  was  now  growing  to  like 
her.  She  read  to  him,  helped  him  in  the  daily  lessons, 
Aunt  Marion  deeming  it  wise  he  should  study  even  though 
this  was  vacation  time;  but  never  before  had  he  known 
Priscilla  to  tender  a  caress.  Mrs.  Ray  watched  them 
curiously  as  together  they  left  the  room  to  see  his  catch 
properly  stored  in  the  icebox.  Presently,  hand  in  hand, 
they  returned  through  the  hall  and  went  forth  upon  the 
veranda  just  as  the  phaeton  suddenly  drew  up  at  the 
gate,  and  Priscilla  felt  the  little  hand  withdrawing.  He 
did  not  know  mamma  was  coming.  He  went  unwill 
ingly,  but  obedient,  to  receive  her  effusive  words  of 
greeting,  and  to  hear,  unresponsive,  that  he,  dear  child, 
was  looking  so  much  better  since  dear  Mrs.  Ray  had  taken 
charge  of  him  in  all  these  dreadful  days.  But  she  did 
not  ask  him  to  drive  with  them,  nor  did  he  wish  to  go, 
for  she  had  need  to  speak  with  Priscilla,  and  Jimmy  would 
have  been  in  the  way. 

It  seems  that  matters  had  come  to  such  a  pass  that  Mrs. 
Dwight  felt  that  she  must  have  advice,  and,  oh,  how  her 
heart  yearned  for  a  friend!  Many  of  the  ladies  had 
been  kind,  yes,  very  kind,  Mrs.  Stone  especially;  and 
others,  even  Mrs.  Ray,  who  she  felt,  she  feared,  she 
knew,  did  not  like  or  trust  her,  though  she  had  so  longed 
to  win  Mrs.  Ray's  friendship.  But  even  Mrs.  Stone  and 
Mrs.  Ray  could  not  be  to  her  now  what  she  so  needed — 
a  real  friend  and  adviser,  a  confidant,  in  fact,  and  these 
ladies  were,  though  they  did  not  look  it,  of  an  age  suf- 


A    MOMENTOUS    DAY  213 

ficient  to  be  her  mother.  What  she  craved  was  one 
nearer  herself  in  years  (Miss  Sanford  was  certainly  ten 
years  older  and  not  easily  flattered),  for  now  a  time  had 
come,  said  Mrs.  Dwight,  when  there  might  be  conflict 

between  the  duty  she  owed  her  husband  and — and 

Priscilla  gasped  and  bridled  and. began  to  bristle  all  over 
with  premonition  of  what  might  be  comii  :,  then  breathed 
a  sudden  sigh  of  relief,  yet  of  disappointment,  as  Mrs. 
Dwight  concluded  with  "  the  deference  due  her  parents." 
In  their  letters  both  her  father  and  her  mother  had  been 
appealing  to  her  to  appeal  to  her  husband  to  come  further 
to  their  financial  aid ;  that  Major  Farrell  had  relied  upon 
the  backing  of  his  son-in-law  in  certain  enterprises ;  that 
he  was  now  in  desperate  straits,  and — and  finally  they 
had  gone  so  far  as  to  threaten — threaten  her,  their 
daughter,  with  untold  calamity  if  she  did  not  instantly 
assure  them  that  material  aid  would  speedily  be  forth 
coming.  She  had  written,  telling  them  of  her  husband's 
perilous  plight,  of  the  possibly  fatal  illness,  of  the  impos 
sibility  of  anything  being  done  until  his  recovery,  and 
their  telegrams  in  acknowledgment  were  imperative. 
She  felt  that  she  must  bring  her  burden  of  trouble  and 
ask  Miss  Sanford, — of  whose  charity  and  gentleness  the 
garrison  never  tired  of  telling  by  the  hour, — for  Miss 
Sanford  must  feel  and  know  that  since  the  day  he  so 
raged  against  his  own  son,  he — he  had  even  seemed  to 
turn  against  her,  his  devoted  and  dutiful  wife. 

And  now  when  the  doctors  said  he  was  almost  well 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

enough  to  be  approached  on  matters  of  urgent  business, 
she  dared  not.  She  had  lost, perhaps, her  influence.  "Then 
what  could  /  possibly  do  ?  "  asked  Priscilla  bluntly,  and 
then  came  the  explanation.  The  woman  whom  he  most 
honored,  respected,  believed  in,  the  woman  who  had  been 
the  devoted  friend  of  her, — that  was  gone,  with,  alas,  his 
heart  buried  by  her  side, — that  woman,  Mrs.  Ray,  if  she 
would  but  speak  with  him,  plead  with  him  for  her,  his 
fond,  but,  ah,  so  cruelly  misjudged  wife,  whose  heart  was 
failing  her  now,  and  at  a  time  when  for  his  sake  as  well  as 
hers  she  needed  all  her  strength.  If  Mrs.  Ray  could  but 
see  her  way  to  do  this,  ah,  with  what  gratitude  and  devo 
tion  would  she,  Inez,  ever  think  of  her — and  all  Minnecon- 
jou  knew  Mrs.  Ray's  love  for  her  noble  niece.  Everyone 
said  that  if  Miss  Sanford  but  willed  a  thing  and  urged  it 
upon  her  aunt  it  was  a  thing  accomplished.  Out  of  the 
goodness  of  her  heart  would  not  Miss  Sanford  strive  for 
her,  a  heart-crushed,  well-nigh  hopeless  wife,  upon  whom 
there  had  but  recently  dawned  the  knowledge  that,  that — 
could  not  Miss  Sanford  imagine? 

And  in  the  midst  of  the  gush  of  tears  with  which  she 
closed  came  sudden  distraction.  They  had  been  trundling 
easily,  aimlessly  over  the  smooth,  hard  prairie  road,  the 
well-trained,  well-matched  ponies  ambling  steadily  along. 
They  had  given  the  cavalry  herds  and  herd  guards  a  wide 
berth,  and  the  townward  route,  for  Mrs.  Dwight  shunned, 
she  said,  the  sight  of  almost  any  face  but  the  sweet  and 
sympathetic  one  beside  her.  They  had  turned  southward, 


A    MOMENTOUS    DAY  215 

after  rounding  Castle  Butte,  a  bold,  jagged  upheaval 
among  the  nearest  foothills,  and  were  winding  slowly 
down  this  narrow  and  crooked  ravine  toward  the  broad 
Minneconjou  bottom,  when,  as  the  ponies  reached  a  fairly 
level  bit  of  road,  and  were  swiftly  turning  a  point  of 
bluff,  they  suddenly  and  violently  shied  to  the  right,  almost 
upsetting  the  dainty  vehicle,  and  nearly  pitching  its  help 
less  freight  headlong  into  the  road.  Then  with  the  bits  in 
their  teeth,  away  they  tore,  full  gallop  down  the  next  in 
cline,  the  phaeton  bounding  after  them,  and  so,  mercifully 
as  it  happened,  out  upon  the  broad  level  of  the  valley,  with 
the  Minneconjou  and  its  fringing  line  of  cottonwoods 
barely  five  hundred  yards  across  the  bench.  The  pygmy 
tiger  had  been  left  at  home ;  his  ears  would  have  been  too 
active,  and  Mrs.  Dwight,  though  accustomed  to  driving 
her  usually  gentle  and  tractable  team,  was  utterly  helpless 
now.  She  hung  on  desperately  to  the  reins.  But  this 
was  a  new  and  delirious  experience  for  the  merry  little 
scamps  in  harness.  They  were  headed  for  home.  There 
was  a  deep  bend  of  the  stream  and  a  ford  through  the 
shallows,  and  an  abrupt  dip  of  four  feet  from  the  bench 
level,  and  the  words  of  their  fair,  frail  charioteer  were 
stimulating  rather  than  soothing,  so  away  they  went,  and 
it  was  high  time  for  Miss  Sanford,  if  she  wished  to  save 
their  necks,  to  throw  convention  and  etiquette  to  the  wind, 
to  take  personal  control — and  the  reins. 

No  one  ever  doubted   Priscilla's  nerve,   yet  here   sat 
Priscilla  hanging  on  to  the  side-rail  with  both  hands  and 


216  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

staring  backward,  her  head  twisted  half  round,  with  all 
her  wondering,  startled  eyes,  for  the  objects  that  had 
stampeded  the  ponies  were  a  brace  of  frowsy,  blanketed 
Minneconjou  braves,  squatted  on  the  bunch  grass  in  the 
shade  of  the  bluffs  at  the  side  of  the  road,  in  close  con 
ference  with  two  men  in  khaki  and  campaign  hats,  one 
of  them,  though  instantly  the  brim  was  jerked  down 
over  his  eyes,  she  knew  to  be  Blenke, — Blenke  whose  woe 
begone,  remorseful  letters  she  had  duly  filed  and  docketed, 
but  who,  he  declared,  was  too  shame-stricken  to  show  his 
face  to  her  of  all  the  world.  What  on  earth  was  Blenke 
doing  there  in  that  out-of-the-way  nook,  and  in  confab 
with  Indians?  They  were  hidden  from  view  by  a  wave 
of  prairie  almost  as  suddenly  as  they  had  been  whirled  into 
sight,  and  then  Priscilla  had  to  give  her  aid  and  attention 
to  Mrs.  Dwight,  who  was  swaying  in  her  seat.  She 
grasped  the  reins  with  her  strong,  wiry  hands,  but  the 
little  devils  were  within  an  hundred  yards  of  the  brink 
and  reckless  of  everything  but  the  mad  exhilaration  of  a 
runaway.  She  heard  from  somewhere  a  shout,  "  Pull 
your  left  rein  hard!"  and  with  both  hands  she  tugged 
with  sudden  and  startling  result.  The  ponies  almost 
instantly  veered  to  the  left ;  the  light  vehicle  tipped 
slightly  to  the  right,  and  with  that  Inez  went  toppling 
headforemost  over  the  low,  leathern  mud  guard,  and 
Priscilla  was  alone.  Still  clinging  to  that  left  rein,  she 
swung  her  discomfited  steeds  in  broad,  big  circle,  narrowly 
scraping  yet  safely  missing  the  edge,  and  so,  gradually, 


A    MOMENTOUS    DAY  217 

they  found  themselves  galloping  out  once  more  over  the 
prairie  and  away  from  the  homeward  road  and  back 
toward  that  narrow  ravine  whence  two  Indians  were  now 
lashing  their  finally  captured  ponies  southward  across  the 
valley ;  and  then,  still  circling,  the  pygmies  discovering 
that  they  were  heading  westward  once  more  and  farther 
from  home,  their  enthusiasm  by  degrees,  therefore,  be 
came  beautifully  less.  They  slowed  gradually  down  to  a 
lunging  canter,  then  to  a  shame-faced  trot,  and  finally, 
with  Priscilla  in  complete  control  of  both  reins,  her  own 
head  and  theirs,  they  were  brought  at  a  decorous  gait  back 
to  the  road  and  the  point  where  their  mistress  had  quit 
them — and  the  lady  had  disappeared. 

Guiding  them  carefully  down  the  short  declivity  to  the 
water's  edge,  Priscilla  came  upon  a  not  unlooked-for 
explanation.  Sandy's  horse  had  disappeared.  His  owner 
was  kneeling  at  the  edge  of  the  rippling  waters,  bending 
over  a  lovely,  prostrate  form,  alternately  sprinkling  and 
fanning  the  dusty,  pallid,  but  beautiful  face,  then  drop 
ping  his  hat  to  chafe  the  limp  little  hands.  With  eyes 
full  of  terror  he  glanced  up  at  his  cousin.  With  a  voice 
half-choked  with  dread,  he  called  to  her,  "  Let  those  little 
brutes  go,  Pris,  and  come  here  quick !  "  But  Priscilla, 
with  wisdom  untrammeled  by  passion  and  dread,  lashed 
their  bits  to  a  tree  trunk  before  she  would  quit  her 
charges,  and  by  the  time  she  reached  the  interesting  group 
at  the  water's  edge  the  dusky  head  was  pillowed  on  a 
tan-colored  knee,  and  further  supported  by  a  tan-colored 


218  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

arm,  and  the  loveliest  dark  eyes  in  the  world,  just  unclos 
ing,  were  gazing  imploringly  up  into  her  cousin's  agon 
ized  features.  A  faint  flush  was  rising  to  the  soft  cheek, 
and  lips  that  were  colorless  but  a  moment  or  two  agone, 
now  reddening  again,  now  quivering  and  beautifully  al 
luring,  seemed  almost  uplifting,  as  though  to  reward,  to 
welcome  his,  as  with  joy  unmistakable  they  murmured, 
"  Sandy — Sandy — I  knew — you'd  come." 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

BLENKE    COVERS    HIS   TRACKS 

PRISCILLA  SANFORD  in  the  next  few  days, 
despite  the  fact  that  most  of  her  pupils  were  gone, 
found  her  duties  increasing.  She  had  seen 
Blenke,  but  only  through  enlisting  the  interest  of 
his  captain,  who  directed  Blenke  to  call  upon  Miss  San- 
ford  and  give  account  of  his  stewardship  or  be  sent  thither 
in  charge  of  a  sergeant.  Blenke  appeared  at  last  in  the 
dusk  of  evening  and  the  depth  of  despond.  He  wrung 
his  white  hands,  he  bowed  his  shapely  head  in  shame.  He 
could  hardly  speak,  such  was  his  humility,  but  he  stuck  to 
it  that  his  story  was  true.  She  knew  enough  of  his  past 
(at  least  she  should  know,  since  he  had  told  her  so  much 
of  it)  to  believe  that  he  had  enjoyed  the  benefits  of  travel, 
prosperity,  and  education.  He  had  trusted,  however, 
where  he  should  have  guarded,  and  devotion  to  his  fel 
lows  had  resulted  in  his  financial  ruin.  A  man  who  owed 
him  hundreds,  and  had  promised  to  pay,  was  in  Rapid 
City,  and  came  thence  to  find  him  here  at  the  very  time 
Blenke  started  to  find  him  there.  The  failure  of  this  man 
to  keep  his  promise  had  involved  Blenke  shamefully.  He 
had  borrowed  much  more  than  the  ten  dollars  he  still 
owed  his  benefactress.  It  was  shame  and  worry,  result- 

219 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

ing  in  prostration  and  insomnia,  that  drove  him  forth  at 
night,  that  led  to  his  taking  Skid's  prescription,  for  Skid, 
who  was  so  very  grateful  for  Blenke's  conduct  at  time  of 
the  fire,  did  not,  however,,  come  forward  with  offer  of 
financial  aid.  He  was  going  to  do  that,  he  said,  when  he 
got  his  insurance  money,  which  was  still  suspiciously  with 
held.  Skidmore  gave  Blenke  Scotch  ale,  warranted  to 
produce  sleep.  It  at  least  led  to  oblivion,  the  disappear 
ance  of  his  watch,  and  the  train  of  miserable,  disgraceful 
woe  that  followed.  How  could  Blenke  ever  face  Miss 
Sanford  again?  Not  until  ordered  could  he  bear  the 
ordeal,  even  though  her  letters  had  assured  him  of  forgive 
ness  and  further  aid  and  confidence.  As  to  his  being 
with  those  Indians,  lurking  in  that  tortuous  ravine,  the 
explanation  was  simple.  The  man  who  had  tricked  him, 
a  contractor,  was  said  to  be  over  at  the  reservation — In 
dians  had  so  told  him.  They  were  forbidden  to  come  to 
the  fort  or  be  seen  about  Skidmore's.  They  could  onlv 
meet  him  out  of  sight  of  the  post  and  its  slum  suburb. 
He  and  a  comrade  met  them  to  hear  their  report  at  the 
crossing  of  the  old  road  from  Fort  Siding  by  way  of 
Castle  Butte  to  the  Belle  Fourche  country,  and  catching 
sight  of  Lieutenant  Ray,  riding  slowly  along  the  edge  o£ 
the  timber,  the  Indians  had  led  on  into  the  ravine,  where 
they  had  hardly  dismounted  and  turned  loose  their  ponies 
when  the  phaeton  flashed  into  view  around  a  point  of 
bluff,  almost  running  them  down,  then  running  away. 
Startled  as  he  was,  Blenke  would  have  grabbed  a  pony 


BLENKE    COVERS    HIS    TRACKS 

and  galloped  to  Miss  Sanford's  aid,  but  their  ponies,  too, 
took  fright  and  stampeded.  The  Indians  went  in  pursuit, 
and  by  the  time  Blenke  could  again  see  the  phaeton  it  was 
quietly  descending  the  little  ramp  to  the  river  bottom,  and 
all  seemed  well.  Then  Lieutenant  Ray's  horse  was  seen 
galloping  away  toward  the  fort,  and  that  was  another 
reason  why  he,  a  poor  private,  should  not  presume  to 
intrude  when  an  officer  was  presumably  there.  He  went 
in  pursuit  of  the  horse.  Lieutenant  Ray,  he  said,  had 
never  liked  him,  while  he,  Blenke,  could  almost  lay  down 
his  life  to  serve  Lieutenant  Ray. 

So  Priscilla  could  say  nothing  but  "  Go  and  sin  no 
more/'  and  come  back  to  the  choir,  which  Blenke  prom 
ised  faithfully  to  do. 

Then  Major  Dwight  was  at  last  sufficiently  recovered 
to  be  pronounced  convalescent,  and  there  had  been  the 
meeting  with  his  beloved  boy,  the  first  few  minutes  of 
which  had  been  witnessed  only  by  Dr.  Waring  and  Mrs. 
Ray,  who  presently,  reassured  by  his  calm,  withdrew  and 
left  father  and  child  together.  It  had  been  followed  by  a 
regular  visit  each  day,  limited  to  less  than  an  hour  for  the 
time  being.  There  had  been  two  interviews,  Dr.  Waring 
only  being  present  and  that  not  all  the  time,  between 
Dwight  and  his  wife.  From  both  of  these  Inez  came 
forth  weeping  convulsively,  to  be  comforted  by  Felicie — 
and  a  pint  of  Pommery  Sec.  That  something  had  been 
sent  to  the  importunate  Farrells  the  doctor  had  knowledge, 
and  that  something  had  been  said  to  their  daughter  to 


222  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

plunge  her  in  grief  inexpressible  the  garrison  was  speed 
ily  informed.  "  She  should  leave  him,  this  angel,"  said 
Felicie,  "  but  she  is  of  a  devotion,  my  faith,  the  most 
incomparable — the  most  indomitable." 

Then  Dwight  begged  that  Mrs.  Ray  should  come  to 
him,  and  there  had  been  a  long  talk,  a  reconciliation,  an 
understanding  that  brought  comfort  to  his  heart  and  re 
joicing  to  hers,  and  then  as  convalescence  advanced,  and 
his  mind  demanded  food,  Priscilla  had  come  to  read  -to 
him,  and  from  reading,  first  rather  less  than  an  hour,  she 
was  reading  daily  now  as  much  as  two.  It  gave  Madame 
a  frightful  migraine,  said  the  explanatory  and  fruitful 
Felicie,  to  read  aloud  at  all. 

But  the  projected  alliance,  the  prospective  friendship 
so  desired  by  Mrs.  Dwight  of  the  elder — the  highly 
gifted — maid  had  progressed  no  further.  From  the 
moment  of  their  return  from  that  memorable  drive 
neither  party  to  the  proposed  arrangement  again  referred 
to  it.  Priscilla,  who  preferred  to  call  at  any  other  house 
within  the  limits  of  Minneconjou,  was  now  a  daily  visitor. 
Sandy  Ray,  who  found  himself  longing  to  go  thither, 
could  not  go  at  all.  His  arrest  forbade  it,  and  he  was 
asking  himself  what  might  be  his  course  were  his  arrest 
to  end,  for  a  rumor  was  current  at  the  post  that  a  separa 
tion  was  threatened — that  Captain  and  Mrs.  Dwight  were 
certainly  estranged.  There  were  those  who  considered 
it  most  indelicate  under  the  circumstances  that  an  un 
married  woman  should  appear  upon  the  scene  even  as  a 


BLENKE    COVERS    HIS    TRACKS 

reader  to  an  aging  and  broken  man.  Perhaps  it  was,  but 
the  doctor  smiled  approval.  The  colonel  said  "  Go 
ahead."  Mrs.  Ray  considered  her  niece  quite  old  enough 
to  judge  for  herself.  Mrs.  Dwight  declared  it  angelic, 
and  Priscilla  said  nothing  at  all.  Priscilla,  who  had  been 
prone  to  speak  on  slight  reflection,  had  become  as  silent 
or  secretive  as  she  had  once  been  censorious,  for  never 
once  had  she  mentioned  to  her  aunt,  never  yet  had  she 
made  known  to  Sandy,  that  she  had  heard  the  strange 
words  which,  with  returning  consciousness,  Inez,  the  wife 
of  Oswald  Dwight,  had  murmured  looking  up  into  the 
pallid  face  of  Sanford  Ray.  Yet  Ray  knew,  and  soon 
Inez,  that  Priscilla  had  heard  and  not  forgotten. 

It  had  so  happened  the  day  of  that  memorable  drive  and 
catastrophe  that  Sandy  Ray,  dismounting  to  the  aid  of 
Mrs.  Dwight,  whose  slender  and  lovely  form  lay  huddled 
by  the  roadside,  while  Priscilla  and  the  ponies  started  on 
their  circuit,  had  given  no  thought  to  his  own  steed,  which 
fact  enabled  that  inconsiderate  brute  to  trot  away  home 
ward.  Then  when  Inez  came  to  herself  (though  not  to 
her  senses,  else  would  she  have  said  such  shocking  things 
when  Priscilla  was  within  earshot?)  there  arose  a  question 
of  transportation.  It  was  only  four  miles  to  the  fort,  but 
in  his  still  somewhat  crippled  condition  that  wa?  far  for 
Sandy  to  walk.  It  was  characteristic  of  Priscilla  that  she 
should  promptly  suggest  her  driving  Mrs.  Dwight  home 
at  once;  then,  if  need  be,  sending  Hogan  back  with  the 
horse.  Priscilla  herself  was  a  famous  pedestrian,  priding 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

herself  on  sometimes  "  footing  "  it  to  and  from  town,  but 
never  once  did  Priscilla  now  suggest  that  Sandy  drive 
Mrs.  Dwight  or  Mrs.  Dwight  drive  Sandy.  Priscilla, 
indeed,  behaved  with  some  little  asperity  as  well  as  im 
patience  when  she  assured  Mrs.  Dwight  that  she  had  the 
ponies  now  under  complete  control,  and  all  Mrs.  Dwight 
had  to  do  was  to  get  in  at  once.  But  this  required 
Sandy's  aid  and  encircling  arm.  Then  when  Inez  was 
fairly  in  her  reclining  seat,  she  could  not  release  the  hand. 
"  But  surely  you  are  coming  ?  Your  horse  is  gone ! 
What — walk,  Miss  Sanford?  Indeed,  he  shall  not,  and 
after  having  carried  poor  me  all  that  distance."  (For  a 
woman  in  a  dead  faint  Inez  was  oddly  alive  to  what  had 
been  going  on.)  "You  are  coming  right  in  here,  Mr. 
Ray !  "  and  she  edged  vigorously  over  against  the  stout 
structured  Priscilla  in  determined  effort  to  make  room  for 
Sandy  beside  her.  So  there  he  rode,  saying  very  little, 
but  tumultuously  thinking,  Heaven  only  knows  what, 
for  Inez  had  then  eyes,  ears,  aye — lips,  had  he  dared — 
only  for  him.  She  nestled  close  and  confiding  in  the  arm 
trembling  about  her  slender  shoulders.  He  felt  the  con 
tact  of  her  rounded  form.  His  head  was  in  a  whirl,  his 
heart  was  in  a  tumult,  when  at  last  Priscilla  reined  in  at 
the  major's  gate,  and  again  Sandy  had  almost  to  carry  the 
lovely  burden  up  the  major's  steps  and,  with  one,  long, 
melting  gaze  from  her  glorious  eyes,  with  five  murmured 
words  from  her  exquisite,  parted,  passionate  lips,  with  a 
thrilling  pressure  from  both  her  little  hands,  he  delivered 


BLENKE    COVERS    HIS    TRACKS          225 

her  into  the  waiting  arms  of  Felicie,  to  become  again  a 
limp  and  prostrate  being,  to  require  at  once  her  hand 
maid's  best  services — and  champagne.  The  quantity  of 
Pommery  Sec  consumed  in  that  house  during  the  major's 
confinement  thereto,  said  Felicie  afterwards,  was,  o 
del,  of  the  most  incredible  ! 

It  can  readily  be  conceived  that  Priscilla  could  not  soon 
forget  the  incidents  of  that  day's  drive,  the  last  she  ever 
took  with  Inez  Dwight.  What  with  the  apparition  of 
Blenke  and  the  blanketed  Indians  at  the  ravine,,  the  run 
away  of  the  ponies  on  the  prairie,  and  the  astounding 
revelation  that  followed,  the  honest-hearted  girl  was  ut 
terly  at  a  loss  as  to  her  duty  in  the  premises.  Six  weeks 
back  she  would  not  have  hesitated.  She  would  have 
known  infallibly  just  what  to  say  and  do,  and  unflinch 
ingly  would  she  have  said  and  done  it.  But,  all  was 
different  now.  Her  faith  was  strong  as  ever,  firm  and 
unshaken,  but  her  self-confidence  was  gone.  She  had 
made  some  of  the  worst  mistakes  of  her  thirty  years 
within  the  last  three  months.  She  had  justly  offended  her 
fondest,  truest  friends ;  had  brought  dire  distress,  untold 
suffering,  on  a  most  loving  and  devoted  father,  and  cruel 
punishment  to  an  innocent  and  trusting  child.  Her  head 
had  been  bowed  to  the  dust  in  self-condemnation,  in  humil 
ity  unspeakable.  She  could  have  dragged  herself  upon 
her  knees  every  inch  of  the  road  from  their  door  to 
Dwight's,  and  with  streaming  eyes  and  clasping  hands, 
a  well-nigh  broken  and  all  contrite  heart,  could  have 


226  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

bathed  his  feet  with  her  tears  and  implored  his  forgive 
ness.  It  was  characteristic  of  Oswald  Dwight, — the  old 
Oswald  Dwight  coming  once  again  through  this  hell  of 
suffering  and  from  the  very  threshold  of  the  other  world 
into  the  kingdom  of  self-search  and  self-dominion, — that 
he  should  send  for  her, — beg  that  she  should  be  brought 
to  him, — that  he  might  lift  from  her  mind  a  moiety  at  least 
of  its  weight  of  self-accusation.  It  was  characteristic  of 
him  thereafter  that,  after  the  first  few  hours  with  his 
blessed  boy — and  God  alone  knows  what  intensity  of 
prayer,  petition,  love,  and  resolve  surged  through  the 
heart  and  soul  of  the  almost  re-created  man — he  should 
try  to  showPriscillaSanford  that  he  blamed  himself  alone, 
not  her;  that  he  honored  her,  respected  her,  believed  in 
her,  and  that  he  rejoiced  to  see  the  friendship  that  was 
daily  growing  between  her  and  his  beloved  little  son. 
The  readings  that  seemed  so  long  to  the  censorious  were 
not  all  reading,  after  all,  for  presently  and  little  by  little 
the  book  would  be  dropped,  the  page  would  be  discussed, 
and,  once  away  from  her  hobby  of  original,  sin  and  uni 
versal  damnation — the  Calvinistic  creed  of  that  stern, 
pure-hearted  if  Puritanical  woman — there  was  much  that 
appealed  to  the  stern,  true-hearted  soldier  nature  of  the 
even  maturer  man.  A  famous  Covenanter — a  Round 
head  after  Cromwell's  own  heart — might  Oswald  Dwight 
have  been  had  he  dwelt  in  Merry  England,  where  sun 
strokes  were  unknown  and  dark-eyed  sirens  seldom  heard 
of.  As  for  Priscilla,  she  needed  but  the  garb  to  fit  her 


BLENKE    COVERS    HIS    TRACKS 

for  the  austere  duties  of  the  sect  whence  sprung  her 
mother  and  her  name.  But  it  was  a  chastened,  softened, 
subdued  Priscilla  that  now  wrestled  in  spirit  with  the 
problem  set  before  her.  She  knew  no  woman  in  all  Min- 
neconjou  except  Aunt  Marion  with  whom  to  take  counsel, 
and  how  could  she  wound,  terrify,  Aunt  Marion  with  her 
growing  suspicion !  She  knew  but  one  man  in  all  Minne- 
conjou  on  whom  she  felt  a  longing  to  lean  the  burden 
of  her  deep  trouble,  and  how  could  she  bring  herself  to 
mention  it  to  him ! 

For  within  the  week  that  followed  the  day  of  that  drive 
and  disaster  the  level-headed  soldier  in  command  of  the 
department  had  been  to  Fort  Wister ;  had  held  an  official 
inspection  and  a  personal  investigation  at  Minneconjou; 
had  interrogated  and,  it  was  whispered,  instructed  Captain 
Foster,  with  the  result  that,  though  deeply  injured  and 
properly  incensed,  that  officer,  while  urging  continued 
effort  to  bring  to  justice  his  unknown  assailants,  decided 
it  was  unwise  to  press  further,  for  the  present  at  least,  his 
charges  against  Lieutenant  Ray.  Much  to  Ray's  disgust, 
therefore,  he  was  released  from  arrest  without  the  full 
and  entire  clearance  he  had  hoped  for,  and  now,  with  the 
Canteen  closed  and  no  longer  demanding  his  supervision, 
with  little  to  do  at  the  Exchange,  still  unfit  for  drill  or 
soldier  duty,  with  his  soul  raging  and  dissatisfied,  his 
heart  stirred  anew  with  strange  and  turbulent  emotion, 
and  his  brain  in  a  whirl, — nervous,  restless,  sometimes 
sleepless  the  livelong  night, — Sandy  Ray  had  again  taken 


228  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

to  riding  long  hours  to  get  away  from  himself, — from 
everybody,  as  he  told  his  anxious,  watchful,  but  silent 
mother.  (How  little  did  Priscilla  dream  how  much  that 
mother  knew !  How  little  did  that  mother  know  how 
much  Priscilla  dreamed!)  And  in  Ray's  avoidance  of 
everything,  everybody,  he  rode  never  to  town,  but  ever  to 
the  west  and  often  to  the  clump  of  cottonwoods  opposite 
the  mouth  of  that  crooked  ravine  where  Inez  Dwight, 
with  the  look,  the  touch,  the  temptation  of  the  unforgotten 
days  at  Manila  and  Nagasaki,  had  come  again  into  his 
life,  and  whither  Inez  Dwight,  decorously  accompanied 
by  her  sheepdog  of  a  maid,  found  means  to  drive,  no 
matter  which  way  she  started,  and  there  or  about  there, 
to  meet  him, — to  see  him  four  days  out  of  the  seven, — 
until  the  climax  came. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

AGAIN   THE  SALOON 

FOR  a  man  of  philosophic  temperament,  one  who 
seldom  worried  other  people  or  himself,  Colonel 
Stone  had  been  having  a  nerve-racking  time  of  it 
He  was  troubled  in  the  first  place  about  the  con- 
dition  of  affairs  military  in  his  big  command,  which  the 
general  himself  had  referred  to  as  "  a  sad  falling  off,"  and 
which  Stone  saw  no  way  under"  the  law  to  correct.  The 
number  of  men  absent  without  leave,  absent  unaccounted 
for,  probably  in  desertion,  or  absent  "  in  the  hands  of  the 
civil  authorities,"  had  increased  alarmingly  since  the 
closing  of  the  Canteen.  "  Skid  "  and  his  abominable  com 
munity  across  the  fords  had  been  doing  a  thriving  busi 
ness,  and  were  vastly  enjoying  the  situation.  Men  by 
dozens  who  had  been  content,  after  their  sharp  drills  or 
when  the  day's  work  was  done,  with  mild  and  palatable 
beer,  now  sat  sullenly  about  their  barrack  steps  in  the 
summer  evenings,  or,  out  of  sheer  disgust,  wandered  off 
by  twos  and  threes  (and  a  new  footbridge  erected  by 
Skidmore),  to  spend  their  leisure  hours  and  scanty  cash 
over  the  reeking  counters  of  the  saloon,  deeming  them 
selves  robbed  of  a  right  accorded  every  other  wageworker 
throughout  Christendom,  and  saying  things  of  their  Con- 


230  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

gress  it  was  n't  safe  for  their  officers  even  to  think.  They 
did  not  so  much  blame  the  women  who  had  started  the 
movement  that  spoiled  their  soldier  homelife — how  could 
women  of  the  Fold  be  expected  to  know  anything  about 
the  conditions  on  the  frontier? — but,  said  our  sergeants 
and  corporals  and  sturdy  men-at-arms,  the  soldier  had  a 
right  to  expect  that  Congress  would  look  before  it  voted. 
Possibly  had  the  soldiers,  too,  been  voters  their  side  of 
the  case  might  have  met  some  consideration;  but,  being 
politically  on  the  same  plane  with  "  Indians  not  taxed," 
it  was  safe,  at  least,  to  similarly  fix  their  social  status  and 
restrictions.  Forbidden  by  the  people  he  was  sworn  to 
serve,  to  take  his  temperate  drink  at  home,  but  permitted 
by  the  same  people  to  drink  his  fill  of  fiery  stuff  abroad, 
abroad  the  thirsty  soldier  went,  and  with  him  went  many  a 
man  who  had  been  content  with  mighty  little,  but  resented 
it  that  he  should  be  discriminated  against,  denied  the  right 
of  the  humblest  citizen,  and  declared  the  only  white  man 
in  America  fit  only  to  be  ruled  as  is  the  red. 

The  morning  list  of  prisoners  at  Minneconjou  was 
something  over  which  Stone  was  nearly  breaking  his 
heart.  Every  night  now,  in  numbers,  the  men  were 
sneaking  off  across  the  stream,  lured  by  the  dance  music, 
the  sound  of  clinking  glass  and  soldier  chorus  and  siren 
laughter.  However  well  the  colonel  might  know  his  own 
profession,  he  was  powerless  under  the  law  to  deal  with 
this  question.  Here  "  Skid  "  had  him  and  the  garrison 
by  the  throat.  With  the  knowledge  that  his  men  were 


AGAIN    THE    SALOON  231 

drinking,  dicing,  and  going  generally  to  the  devil  within 
those  ramshackle  walls  across  the  stream,  he  could  neither 
remove  the  victims  nor  dislodge  their  tempters.  Patrols 
he  could  send  to  search  the  roads,  the  open  prairie,  the 
river  bottom,  but  Skidmore  had  declared  that  no  armed 
party  could  legally  cross  his  threshold,  and  the  courts  had 
backed  him.  Soldiers  roistering  in  the  roadway  in  front 
of  the  dive  would  dart  within  doors  at  sight  of  the  patrol, 
and  the  officer,  sergeant,  or  private  that  entered  there  left 
hope  behind  of  fair  treatment  in  the  civil  courts.  Stone 
tried  sending  a  big  sergeant  and  six  stalwart  men  un 
armed,  and  they  came  back  eventually  without  coats, 
collars,  or  character,  none  of  them  without  bruises,  some 
of  them  not  without  aid.  Stone  marveled  that  so  many 
of  his  men  turned  up  in  town  drunk,  helpless,  and  in  the 
hands  of  the  local  police,  with  fines  imposed  by  the  local 
magistrates,  but  that,  too,  was  presently  explained.  Skid 
kept  a  big,  twelve-seated  "  bus  "  that  on  busy  nights,  as 
the  soldiers  got  well  fuddled  and  completely  strapped,  he 
would  load  up  with  the  drugged  and  drowsy  victims  and, 
instead  of  driving  them  over  to  the  fort,  would  trundle 
them  to  town,  dump  them  in  front  of  some  saloon,  there 
to  be  run  in  by  a  ready  police,  and  locked  up  until  sober 
and  abject.  Then  would  come  their  arraignment  and  the 
invariable  "  Five  dollars  or  thirty  days."  Then  their 
officers  would  be  notified.  The  fines  at  first  were  paid, 
until  it  dawned  upon  Stone  that  Skid  and  Silver  Hill, 
both,  were  in  the  swindling  combination,  that  after  Skid- 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

more  had  got  the  last  cent  of  the  men  there  was  still 
a  way  of  squeezing  more  from  the  officers.  As  soon  as 
the  fort  realized  the  fact  the  town  ceased  to  realize  the 
funds,  and  Skidmore  was  told  to  send  no  more  castaways 
to  Silver  Hill,  so  he  simply  turned  them  out  to  take  their 
medicine  where  once  they  took  their  comfort — at  the  post. 
But  Skid's  was  a  menace  in  yet  another  way,  and,  so 
long  as  his  "  ranch  "  was  far  over  to  the  southeast,  the 
fort  had  not  felt  it.  The  noble  redman  likes  liquor,  and 
the  low-caste  and  half-breed  crave  it.  There  were  always 
a  shabby  lot  of  hang-dog,  prowling,  ill-favored  off-scour- 
ings  of  the  Sioux  lurking  about  Skid's  premises  day  and 
night,  bartering  when  they  had  anything  to  barter,  but 
generally  begging  or  stealing.  A  drunken  soldier,  sleep 
ing  off  his  whisky  in  the  willow  patches,  was  ever  fair 
game,  and  sometimes  now  soldiers  were  found  throttled, 
and  robbed  of  their  very  boots  and  shirts.  Serious  clashes 
had  occurred,  and  were  of  almost  daily  happening,  to  the 
end  that  officers,  out  fishing  or  shooting,  had  been  insulted 
and  threatened  by  Indians  who  had  sworn  vengeance 
against  the  soldier,  and  knew  no  discrimination.  "  We'll 
have  trouble  from  that  yet,"  Stone  had  told  his  general, 
and  the  grave,  lined  face  of  the  latter  showed  how  seri 
ously  he  regarded  the  possibility.  Sandy  Ray,  riding  far 
out  to  the  southwest  one  summer  day,  had  met  a  brace  of 
young  braves  who  insolently  ordered  him  to  turn  back 
or  fight,  and  this  when  he  had  not  so  much  as  a  pocket 
pistol  or  an  inkling  that  trouble  was  brewing.  Knowing 


AGAIN    THE    SALOON  233 

a  little  of  their  "  lingo,"  and  something  of  the  sign  lan 
guage,  he  demanded  an  explanation,  and  got  for  answer 
that  two  of  their  brothers  had  been  worsted  in  conflict 
with  him  and  his  party.  Sandy  protested  he  had  had  no 
trouble  with  any  of  their  people,  and  got  a  prompt  an 
swer,  "  Fork  tongue !  "  "  Liar !  "  and  other  expletives 
not  printable,  and  he  turned  back  before  their  revolvers, 
wrathful,  helpless,  and  wondering.  He  told  his  tale  to 
the  colonel,  and  Stone  looked  solemn : 

"  Sandy,"  said  he,  "  you — take  chances  riding  out  that 
way.  I — I've  been  getting  anxious  about  you — have  been 
on  the  point  of  speaking — before."  Whereat  Ray  suddenly 
went  crimson,  through  his  coat  of  sun  tan,  and  bit  his  lip 
to  control  its  quiver.  "  There's  mischief  brewing  with 
those  people,  I  fear.  Their  agent  has  written  me  twice. 
One  drunken  brawl  at  Skid's  has  led  to  clashes  where 
whisky  was  n't  the  inciting  cause.  He  says  two  of  his 
young  men  were  set  upon  by  some  of  our  troopers  here, 
and  it  is  n't  safe  to  meet  them  alone.  Indeed,  Sandy,  I 
wish  you'd  ride  in — some  other  direction." 

It  was  what  his  mother  had  very  gently  said  to  him 
but  yester  morning,  before  he  had  heard  of  any  sign  of 
Indian  trouble.  How  was  he  to  hear,  since  he  seemed 
to  avoid  the  society  of  his  kind  and  to  prefer  to  live  alone  ? 
Ray  left  the  colonel's  presence  with  his  nerves  a-tingle. 
Had  it  come  to  this  then,  that  his  father's  old  friend 
should  say  to  his  father's  son  that — he  was  riding  the 
wrong  way? 


234  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

Yes.  This  was  another  matter  that  was  giving  Stone 
sore  trouble.  Mrs.  Stone  was  a  woman  who  paid, 
ordinarily,  little  heed  to  garrison  talk.  She  and  her 
colonel  were  the  best  of  chums,  and  one  reason  was  that, 
even  when  she  heard  she  would  never  carry  to  him  the 
little  spiteful  rumors  often  set  astir  by  the  envious  or 
malicious.  When,  therefore,  Mrs.  Stone  came  to  him 
with  a  story  at  the  expense  of  man  or  woman,  the  colonel 
knew  there  was  something  behind  it.  Now,  though  Mrs. 
Dwight's  pretty  phaeton  usually  started  eastward,  it 
speedily  "  changed  direction."  The  country  about  Minne- 
conjou  was  very  open,  almost  all  rolling,  treeless  prairie, 
and  its  hard,  winding  roads  could  be  seen  criss-crossing 
the  gray-green  surface  in  many  a  mile.  It  seemed  wicked 
that  Mrs.  Dwight  should  care  to  stay  out  so  long  when 
her  husband  had  been  so  very  seriously  ill  and  was  still 
confined  to  his  room.  Even  though  he  did  not  desire  her 
presence,  and  was  sore  angered  at  and  presumably 
.estranged  from  her,  Minneconjou  said  she  ought  not  to 
be  abroad,  especially  if  it  involved  her  meeting  a  young 
officer  once  thought  to  have  been  deeply  smitten  with  her 
charms.  True,  no  one  had  seen  them  together  except 
from  a  long  distance,  and  then  it  appeared  that  the  horse 
man  rode  for  a  few  moments  only  by  the  side  of  the 
pretty  equipage.  But,  for  what  else  could  she  go  thither, 
and  why,  if  bent  on  going  thither,  should  she  thrice  start 
by  way  of  the  east  gate  and  then  make  long,  wide  circuit 
of  the  prairie  roads? 


AGAIN    THE    SALOON  235 

Mrs.  Stone  had  heard  enough  to  convince  her  she 
ought  to  speak  to  Mrs.  Dwight,  but  first  she  must  con 
sult  her  husband.  Stone  had  heard  just  enough  to  con 
vince  him  he  ought  to  speak  to  Sandy,  when  they  had  their 
conference,  this  admirable  couple,  and  that  day  he  spoke. 

And  that  day,  as  it  happened,  Sandy  Ray  had  ridden 
home,  saying  to  himself  "  this  must  be  the  last." 

One  morning,  the  first  meeting  since  that  of  the  run 
away,  she  had  surprised  him  mooning  at  the  cottonwoods, 
his  horse  tethered  and  cropping  the  bunch  grass,  he  him 
self  stretched  at  length  at  the  edge  of  the  stream  lost  in 
deep  and  somber  reflection.  Just  where  she  expected, 
there  she  found  him,  but  not  as  she  expected.  In  spite 
of  her  effusiveness  the  day  of  the  drive,  he  was  grave, 
distant,  unresponsive,  though  she  sat  beaming  on  him 
from  the  phaeton,  Felicie  beside  her,  an  unhearing, 
unheeding,  uncomprehending  dummy.  The  next  time 
Inez  took  the  air  in  that  direction  she  saw  him  afar  off, 
and  he  her,  and  rode  away.  That  evening  she  prome 
naded  quite  an  hour  on  her  veranda,  and  later  he  got  a 
little  missive : 

Will  Mr.  Ray,  if  not  too  busy,  come  to  me  one  moment? 
There  is  a  matter  on  which  I  much  desire  his  aid. 

(Signed)   INEZ  DWIGHT. 

Ray  was  slowly  crossing  the  parade,  after  an  hour  at 
the  sergeants'  school.  He  could  not  stay  home,  where 
mother  might  possibly  ask  the  questions  she  sometimes 


236  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL  « 

looked,  but  he  need  not  have  feared.  Dwight's  one  sol 
dier  groom  came  speeding  with  the  note  and  the  word, 
"  Mrs.  Dwight's  at  the  gate  now,  son"  And  at  the  gate 
she  was,  in  diaphanous  muslin  or  pina  or  justi — how 
should  a  man  know?  Ray  neither  knew  nor  cared.  His 
head  was  set  against  her,  though  his  heart  was  throbbing 
hard.  He  had  listened  just  one  day  to  her  soft  speeches, 
quivered  under  her  melting  glance,  and  thrilled  under  her 
touch.  Then  he  saw  his  danger  and  swore  he  would 
shun  it,  coward  or  no  coward.  On  that  following  day, 
afar  up  the  valley,  he  had  set  his  face  against  her  when 
she  came  in  search  of  him.  Now  he  could  not  so  affront 
her,  though  she  had  tricked  and  affronted  him.  Again 
he  was  civil  or  coldly  courteous,  but  he  held  aloof  and 
would  not  see  her  extended  hand,  whereat  her  under- 
lip  began  to  tremble,  and  she  laid  her  hand  upon  his 
arm. 

"  Am  I  never  to  have  a  kind  word,  Sandy  ? "  she 
pleaded,  and  there  was  intoxication  in  the  glance,  the 
touch,  and  trembling  lip.  "  Will  you  never  listen  to  my 
story,  and  know  how  I  was  tricked — how — how  I  lost 
you?" 

And  bluntly  he  had  answered,  "  I  do  not  care  to  know. 
If  that  is  all  you  wish  to  see  me  about,  good-night,"  then 
turned  and  left  her.  He  was  raging  at  the  thought  of 
her  flirtation  with  Foster.  He  could  not  forgive  that, 
though  for  a  few  hours,  in  the  amaze,  bewilderment,  and 
vague  delight  with  which  he  had  heard  her  waking 


AGAIN    THE    SALOON  237 

words,  and  read  the  alluring  message  in  her  eyes,  and 
felt  the  warm  throb  of  her  heart,  almost  against  his,  as 
they  homeward  drove,  with  Priscilla  stern  and  silent  at 
the  reins,  he  had  forgotten.  He  had  been  carried  back, 
in  spite  of  all,  to  the  thrill  and  glamour  of  those  wondrous 
days  and  almost  deliriously  blissful  nights,  sailing  over 
moonlit  summer  seas,  wandering  under  starry  summer 
skies,  with  the  soft  breeze  laden  with  the  perfume  of  the 
cherry  blossoms  stirring  her  dusky  hair  and  blowing  it 
upon  his  warm  young  lips.  But  that  was  far,  far  in  the  past 
now.  He  could  have  listened,  might  have  listened,  but 
between  her  pleading  eyes — those  beautiful,  uplifted 
eyes — and  him  there  stalked  the  effigy  of  Stanley  Foster, 
with  that  sneering,  smiling,  insolent,  triumphant,  posses 
sive  look  upon  his  evil  face;  and,  though  Ray  hated,  it 
was  what  he  needed.  Let  it  be  remembered  of  him,  then, 
that  in  the  stillness  of  the  summer  night  when  they  two 
stood  almost  face  to  face  and  utterly  alone,  despite  her 
restraining  hand,  her  beseeching  touch  and  tone,  he 
turned  sturdily  away. 

But  alas  for  human  frailty,  that  was  not  the  last  ap 
peal!  The  summer  night  was  young,  there  was  a  soft 
wind  blowing  from  the  wrong  direction,  the  southeast, 
and  the  strains  of  music,  n  allowed  and  tempered  by  dis 
tance,  had  been  wafted  fortwards  from  beyond  the  stream, 
soon  to  give  way  to  louder,  harsher  strains,  and  be  punc 
tuated  by  jeering  laugh  or  drunken  yell.  It  was  barely 
ten  o'clock,  yet  the  broad  walk  and  many  a  veranda  along 


238  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

the  row  seemed  deserted.  Walking  stiffly  homeward, 
Ray  met  only  one  couple,  and  never  heeded  a  hail  or  two 
from  vine-screened  porches.  He  was  in  no  mood  for 
chat  or  confidence.  He  wished  to  reach  his  own  room, 
and  reach  it  unmolested.  He  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief 
that  there  was  no  one  to  detain  him  as  he  neared  his  own 
doorway.  The  little  parlor,  too,  was  deserted.  Mother 
and  Priscilla  had  apparently  gone  to  some  one  of  the 
neighbors.  The  lights  were  turned  down  on  the  lower 
floor  and  all  was  darkness  above.  Doors  and  windows, 
army-fashion,  stood  wide  open,  and,  as  he  struck  a  match 
on  reaching  his  little  room,  the  white  curtains  were 
fluttering  outward  under  the  stir  of  the  gentle  air  that 
swept  through  from  the  hall.  He  had  no  thought  of  stay 
ing.  He  meant  to  leave  his  books  and  papers,  to  bathe 
his  face  and  hands,  for  they  seemed  burning,  and  then — 
he  had  no  definite  plan ;  he  only  wished  to  be  alone. 

At  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  as  he  reached  the  lower  hall, 
he  heard  his  mother's  voice.  She  was  at  the  gate,  Pris 
cilla  and  Captain  Washburn,  too,  and  Sandy  turned,  tip 
toed  through  the  hall,  the  dining-room,  the  deserted 
kitchen,  for  the  domestics  had  gone  gossiping  about 
the  neighborhood.  Back  of  the  kitchen,  in  the  narrow 
yard,  ran  the  one-storied  shed,  divided  by  partitions  into 
laundry,  storeroom,  coal  and  woodshed,  and  Hogan's 
sleeping-room  and  sanctuary,  and  a  dark  form  issued 
from  Hogan's  doorway  at  the  instant  that  Sandy,  tiptoe 
ing  still,  came  forth  from  the  kitchen.  "  Hogan ! "  he 


AGAIN    THE    SALOON  239 

hailed,  but  it  was  not  Hogan.  It  was  someone  of  his 
own  size  and  build,  someone  who  started,  then  stopped 
short  and  faced  him  with  punctilious  salute. 

"  It  is  Blenke,  sir." 

"And  what  the  devil  are  you  doing — there?"  de 
manded  Ray,  suspicious,  irritated,  nervously  angered 
against  everything,  everybody;  never,  moreover,  approv 
ing  of  Blenke,  and  knowing  well  how  Hogan  disapproved 
of  him. 

But  Blenke's  voice  was  gentle  melancholy,  mingled 
with  profound  respect. 

"  Looking  for  Hogan,  sir.  I  had  promised  Miss  San- 
ford  to  return  some  books.  I  did  n't  presume  to  enter 
the  house,  and  thought  to  leave  a  message  with  him.  I 
desired,  too,  to  see  the  lieutenant,  sir.  My  application  for 
transfer  to  the  cavalry  has  been  disapproved,  and — I 
hoped  that  he  might  say  just  a  word  to  help  me." 

"After  that  exploit  of  yours — last  month?"  And 
Ray's  eyes  grew  angrier  yet.  "  We  have  too  many  ques 
tionable  characters  as  it  is." 

"  Lieutenant,"  spoke  the  soldier,  almost  imploringly, 
"  I  am  doing  my  best  to  live  down  that — most  deplorable 
affair.  I  was  drugged,  sir.  There  can  be  no  other  ex 
planation,  but  my  captain  still  holds  it  against  me,  and  at 
the  very  time  I  most  needed  to  be  here,  he  has  picked  me 
out  for  detached  duty — to  go  to  the  wood  camp  in  the 
Sagamore  to-morrow." 

And  at  the  instant  Priscilla's  crisp,  even  tones  were 


£^0  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

heard  at  the  rear  door.  a  Oh,  Blenke?  I  thought  I  knew 
the  voice.  One  moment  and  I'll  strike  a  light !  " 

And  in  that  moment  Sandy  made  his  escape. 

His  mother  was  sitting  up  waiting  for  him  when,  an 
hour  later,  he  came  in.  Tenderly,  fondly,  she  kissed 
him,  and  for  a  moment  he  clung  to  her.  Then,  looking  in 
her  face,  he  saw  impending  question. 

"  Not— not  to-night,  mother,  darling,"  he  hurriedly 
spoke.  "  I  do  want  to  talk  with  you — to  tell  you,  but  not 
to-night.  Bear  with  me  just  a  day  or  two,  and " — 
then  again  his  arms  enfolded  her — "  trust  me." 

Her  silent  kiss,  her  murmured  blessing,  was  his  good 
night.  Then  she  went  slowly  to  her  room,  leaving  him  to 
extinguish  the  lights  and  close  their  little  army  home  to 
await  the  coming  of  another  day. 

But,  somewhere  about  twelve  there  was  trouble  down 
toward  the  fords,  and  Sandy,  in  no  mood  for  sleep,  went 
forth  to  inquire.  The  sentry  on  No.  3  was  standing  lis 
tening  to  the  distant  jumble  of  excited  voices.  "  I  don't 
know  what  it  was,  sir.  They  took  some  fellow  up  to  the 
guard-house,  and  they're  hunting  the  willows  for  more." 
Then  No.  4,  behind  them,  set  up  a  shout  for  the  corporal, 
which  No.  3  echoed,  and  Sandy,  not  knowing  what  to 
expect  or  why  he  should  go,  trudged  westward  up  the 
sentry  post  and  found  No.  4  fifty  paces  beyond  the  last 
quarters,  the  major's,  and  wrathful  because  "  some  fel 
lers,"  he  said,  had  sneaked  in  across  his  post.  The  cor 
poral  came  panting  on  the  run,  and  Ray  scouted  on  along 


AGAIN    THE    SALOON 

the  bluff,  saw  nothing,  found  nobody,  turned  to  his  right 
at  the  west  gate,  glanced  upward  where  the  night  light 
burned  dimly  in  the  patient's  room,  at  the  closed  blinds 
and  shades  of  the  room  he  knew  to  be  hers,  and  all  was 
hushed  and  still  within  the  sleeping  garrison  as  a  second 
time  he  walked  slowly  homeward  along  the  row,  unseen 
of  anybody,  probably,  from  the  moment  he  left  the  cor 
poral  and  No.  4,  who  had  some  words  over  the  sentry's 
report,  and  parted  in  ill  humor.  "  Don't  you  yell  for  me 
again  until  it's  business,  d'ye  hear  ?  "  was  the  corporal's 
last  injunction. 

Less  than  fifteen  minutes  later  No.  4  was  startled  by  a 
sudden  sound — a  woman's  half-stifled  scream,  followed 
by  commotion  at  Major  D wight's. 


CHAPTER  XX 
A  MOTHER'S  DREAD 

ETLE  JIM  came  over  somewhat  earlier  than 
usual  in  the  morning.  He  had  returned  to  his 
own  room  adjoining  his  father's  as  soon  as  the 
physicians  deemed  it  wise  to  permit,  and  the  per 
mission  was  given  earlier  than  others  might  have 
deemed  wise  because  the  doctors,  both  senior  and  junior, 
agreed  that  Dwight's  recovery  would  be  retarded  if  the 
boy  were  not  close  at  hand,  with  his  fond  smile  and 
caressing  touch,  eager  to  answer  the  faintest  call.  There 
was  something  more  than  pathetic  in  the  way  the  som 
ber  deep-set  eyes  of  the  weak  and  broken  man,  so  infi 
nitely  humbled  in  his  own  sight,  now  followed  Jimmy's 
every  movement  about  the  room,  and  as  soon  as  Dwight 
was  strong  enough  to  leave  his  bed  for  a  moment  ^at  a 
time  he  would  be  up  again  and  again  during  the  night 
hours  to  gaze  into  Jimmy's  sleeping  face,  to  softly  touch 
his  hand  or  forehead.  Stratton,  of  the  hospital  force, 
detailed  for  duty  with  the  major,  told  later  how  the  big 
tears  would  gather  in  the  major's  eyes  as  he  bent  over  the 
unconscious  sleeper ;  how,  many  a  time  he  would  find  the 
major  kneeling  by  the  bedside,  his  lips  moving  in  prayer. 
Marion's  eyes  welled  over  when  this  was  told  her,  though 

242 


A    MOTHER'S    DREAD 

it  could  hardly  have  been  news.  She  and  all  who  knew 
him  in  the  old  days  must  have  known  how,  with  clearing 
faculties,  the  strong  and  resolute  man  would  suffer  in 
the  consciousness  of  the  cruel  wrong  he  had  done  his 
boy,  must  have  realized  the  depth  of  his  contrition,  and 
probably  guessed  with  fair  accuracy  the  intensity  of 
his  grieving  and  of  his  thoughts  of  her — the  wife  he 
had  so  utterly  loved,  so  sadly  lost — Margaret,  the  de 
voted  mother  of  his  only  son. 

And  realizing  this,  there  had  come  a  vital  question 
to  the  mind  of  Marion  Ray.  What  was  to  be  now  the 
father's  attitude  toward  this  girl-wife — she  who  had  been 
set  in  Margaret's  place,  never  for  a  moment  to  fill  it? 
All  Minneconjou  was  asking  itself  what  would  be  her 
status,  this  beautiful  young  creature,  when  reason  fully 
resumed  its  sway  and  Dwight  was  once  more  able  to 
assume  the  reins  of  domestic  authority?  Thus  far  all 
that  was  known  was  that  estrangement  existed.  She, 
herself,  had  sobbingly  told  her  story  to  eager  if  not 
always  sympathetic  souls.  "  He  turns  from  me  almost 
in  loathing — he  for  whom  I  would  gladly  die !  "  was  her 
melodramatic  utterance  to  one  of  her  hearers,  and  it 
was  quite  enough  to  start  the  story  that  there  would 
certainly  be  a  separation  just  so  soon  as  Dwight  could 
effect  it.  Meantime,  Inez  had  ever  her  faithful  Felicie, 
her  phaeton,  her  flowers  from  town,  her  lovely  gowns 
and  fluffy  wraps,  her  long  hours  abed  after  sun-up,  her 
late  hours  and  suppers,  concerning  which  kitchen  cab- 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

inets  of  officers'  row  had  superabundant  information,  and 
a  certain  firm  in  Silver  Hill  a  swift-growing  account,  on 
the  face  of  which  the  item,  "  Case  Pommery  Sec,  Pints," 
appeared  with  a  frequency  suggestive  of  supper  parties 
of  several  people  instead  of  only  one  or  two.  The  do 
mestics  at  the  Dwights'  were  a  disloyal  lot,  if  Felicie's 
views  were  accepted,  but  as  members  of  the  establish 
ment  they  resented  it  that  the  "  frog-eating  Feelissy " 
should  dare  to  give  them  orders.  "  Madame  much  ob 
jected  to  their  late  hours."  "  It  was  Madame's  wish  they 
should  be  in  their  rooms  by  eleven  o'clock,  and  that  even 
when  there  was  a  dance  they  should  be  home  by  twelve." 
Their  rooms  were  under  the  low  mansard,  on  what  might 
be  called  the  third  floor,  and  a  back  staircase  led  from 
the  kitchen  to  the  upper  regions;  therefore,  there  was 
no  need  of  their  entering  the  dining-room  late  at  night. 
Still,  they  saw  no  reason  why  a  bolt  should  have  been 
placed  on  the  door.  They  said  improper  things  at  the 
advent  of  that  obstruction  during  Foster's  brief  visit, 
and,  after  his  unlamented  departure,  the  spare  bedroom 
on  the  lower  floor,  assigned  to  that  distinguished  officer, 
had  been  most  ostentatiously  aired.  Foster's  consump 
tion  of  cigarettes  was  something  abnormal,  two  receivers 
being  sometimes  left  in  the  dining-room  over  night,  both 
well  burdened  with  ashes  and  discolored  ends — the  only 
tips,  by  the  way,  the  parting  guest,  apparently,  had  time 
to  leave. 

No,  those  servitors  had  rebelled  at  heart  against  both 


A    MOTHER'S    DREAD  245 

mistress  and  maid,  but  the  master's  dictum  had  for  a 
time  enforced  obedience.  Now,  however,  they  were  in 
almost  open  revolt.  "  It  was  her  that  drove  him  crazy 
or  he'd  never  have  beaten  Master  Jimmy !  "  was  the  com 
prehensive  verdict.  Yet  housewives  who  heard  their 
tales  and  reported  them  to  their  lords  met  sometimes 
with  rebuff.  "  Growl  because  they're  sent  to  bed  at 
eleven  o'clock,  do  they?  They'd  growl  the  harder  if 
ordered  to  sit  up  till  then/'  was  one  way  the  unresponsive 
husband  had  of  settling  the  story.  But  wives,  who  are 
wiser  in  the  ways  of  the  domestic  world,  felt  sure  there 
was  something  coming  to  explain  it  all,  and  something 
came — though,  so  far  from  explaining,  it  seemed  to  make 
matters  all  the  more  thrillingly  inexplicable. 

Jimmy,  as  has  been  said,  came  earlier.  Daddy  had 
been  up  quite  a  while  during  the  night  and  the  doctor 
had  come  over  before  sick  call.  Mamma  was  n't  quite 
well,  and  Doctor  Wallen  had  directed  that  daddy  be 
undisturbed  and  left  to  sleep,  if  possible,  during  the 
morning.  Mamma,  of  course,  never  came  to  breakfast 
at  all  now.  She  had  her  chocolate  in  her  room,  pre 
pared  by  Felicie,  and  seldom  appeared  until  long  after 
Jimmy  was  out  of  the  house.  Indeed,  he  seldom  now 
met  mamma  at  all,  this  in  spite  of  the  fact  that,  since 
the  major's  seizure,  mamma  had  declined  all  invitations 
to  dine  or  sup  elsewhere,  and  such  invitations  had  ceased 
coming,  when  now  with  entire  propriety  she  might  ac 
cept,  if  with  entire  propriety  invitations  could  be  ex- 


246  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

tended.  Minneconjou  society  was  nearly  unanimous  in 
the  view  that,  so  long  as  her  husband  saw  no  impro 
priety  in  the  lady's  conduct,  she  must  be  bidden.  Now 
that  he  only  saw  her  in  the  presence  of  the  doctor  or 
the  nurse,  and  she  had  for  two  weeks  declined  to  attend, 
there  was  warrant  for  the  omission  of  her  name  from 
social  functions.  Jimmy  lunched  either  at  Aunt  Mar 
ion's,  with  some  of  his  friends,  or  had  a  chosen  chum 
to  lunch  with  him  at  home.  Anything  Master  Jim  de 
sired  the  kitchen  cabinet  accorded  without  demur.  He 
dined  for  the  present  with  Aunt  Marion,  or  "  had 
his  rations,"  as  he  said,  when  daddy  was  served  at 
seven. 

Mamma,  attended  by  Felicie,  dined  later,  in  her  accus 
tomed  state.  Mamma's  appetite  was  very  delicate  and 
had  to  be  stimulated,  he  said  with  unconscious  truth, 
and  this  morning,  this  particular  morning,  he  had  had 
to  wait  for  his  breakfast.  There  was  some  kind  of  a 
squabble  between  Felicie  and  the  folks  in  the  kitchen. 
He  could  n't  understand  it.  They  did  n't  like  her  having 
beaux  around  late  at  night — swore  they'd  seen  a  fellow 
prowling  about  there  two  or  three  times,  and  only  just 
missed  nabbing  him  at  the  foot  of  the  back  stairs  last 
night,  and  Felicie  was  white  with  rage.  She  said  Butts, 
the  groom,  was  a  cocaine  (though  he  never  kept  any, 
and  Felicie  did)  and  she  called  the  cook  coshon,  and 
scolded  both  for  having  disturbed  daddy.  Daddy  got 
as  far  as  the  back  stairs  with  his  revolver,  they  said, 


A    MOTHER'S    DREAD 

before  the  nurse  could  get  him  back,  and  they  swore  it 
was  n't  their  doing,  but  hers — her  scream  that  woke 
him,  and  even  the  sentry  heard  it  out  on  No.  4  and 
yelled  for  the  corporal,  and  they  nearly  caught  some 
body  that  hid  in  the  woodshed,  and  "  was  n't  it  funny, 
I  never  heard  a  thing !  "  and  then  Jimmy  stopped  short, 
for  Priscilla  had  stepped  to  Aunt  Marion's  side  at  the 
little  desk,  and  Aunt  Marion  was  very  pale.  Priscilla 
had  thrown  him  one  warning  glance,  as  though  to  say 
"  Hush."  But  Aunt  Marion  asked  a  question. 

"  What  time  did  this  happen,  Jimmy  ?  " 

"  Why,  after  twelve,  the  nurse  told  the  doctor.  But, 
was  n't  it  funny  that  I  did  n't  hear  a  thing  of  it?  " 

"  Hear  what,  Jimmy  ?  "  said  a  voice,  and  Sandy,  an 
hour  late  for  breakfast,  stood  at  the  open  dojor. 

"  Go  fetch  some  water,  quick ! "  said  Priscilla,  and 
Jim  went  like  a  shot,  for  Sandy  Ray  stood  just  one 
moment,  pallid  and  uncomprehending,  then,  with  a  cry, 
sprang  to  his  mother's  side,  for  her  eyes  had  closed,  her 
head  was  drooping  on  Priscilla's  arm.  "  Don't  touch 

her,  Sandy  !  Let  me It's — it  '11  be  over  in  a  minute  ! 

She  has  had  one  or  two  little  turns  like  this !  "  And 
then  Jim  came  running  with  a  brimming  glass.  Mrs. 
Ray  sipped  slowly,  lifted  her  head,  put  forth  a  feeble, 
wavering  hand  toward  Sandy  and  faintly  smiled.  "  How 
— foolish !  "  she  muttered.  "  You  shall  have  your  coffee 
in  a  moment,  Sandy,"  but  Priscilla,  with  determined 
face,  stood  her  ground  and  retained  her  hold.  "  Don't 


248  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

let  her  rise  yet,"  said  she  warningly,  her  eyes  on  his 
face,  "  and — don't  ask  questions  of  anybody.  Wait !  " 

For  reasons  of  his  own,  Dr.  Wallen,  after  hearing 
from  the  attendant  of  the  stifled  scream  downstairs  at 
12:25,  gave  instructions  to  speak  of  it  to  nobody  but 
the  post  surgeon  when  he  came.  He  did  not  see,  he  did 
not  ask  to  see,  Madame.  He  did  not  wish  to  see  Felicie, 
but  that  ubiquitous  young  person  was  on  the  landing 
and  the  verge  of  tears.  Madame's  rest  also  had  been 
cruelly  disturbed  by  this  disturbance  the  most  disrepu 
table  made  by  these  miserables,  the  domestiques  of  Mon 
sieur  le  Commandant.  Madame  not  until  after  dawn  had 
been  able  to  repose  herself,  and  as  for  Felicie,  "  me 
who  you  speak,"  nothing  but  the  pathetic  condition  of 
Madame  could  persuade  her  to  remain  another  day  in 
a  such  establishment,  wherein  she,  the  experienced,  the 
most-recommended,  the  companion  of  high  nobility,  the 
all-devoted,  had  been  subject  to  insole'nce  the  most 
frightful "  at  which  point  the  rear  door  to  the  land 
ing  opened,  and  in  came  cook,  all  bristling  for  combat, 
and  the  wordy  battle  would  have  reopened  then  and 
there  but  for  Wallen's  stern,  "  Silence,  both  of  you ! 
Pull  each  other's  hair  to  your  heart's  content  in  the 
cellar,  but  not  one  word  here."  Then  hied  him 
homeward. 

When  the  senior  surgeon  came  over  later,  the  patient 
was  sleeping,  and,  after  hearing  that  Wallen  had  been 
there,  he  left  without  interrogating  the  nurse.  All 


A    MOTHER'S    DREAD 

seemed  going  well,  so  Waring  had  nothing  of  especial 
consequence  to  tell  the  colonel  when  dropping  in  at  the 
office  later. 

Even  the  officer  of  the  day,  in  response  to  the  question, 
"  Anything  special  to  report,  sir  ?  "  failed  to  make  the 
faintest  mention  of  the  excitement  reported  by  No.  4  as 
occurring  soon  after  twelve.  But  it  was  no  fault  of 
the  officer  of  the  day.  He  had  other  and,  presumably, 
far  more  important  matters  to  mention  first,,  and  by 
the  time  he  had  told  that  two  sergeants,  three  corporals 
and  a  dozen  men  had  been  run  in  by  the  patrols,  many 
of  them  battered,  most  of  them  drunk,  and  all  of  them 
out  of  quarters,  out  of  the  post  and  in  the  thick  of  a 
row  over  at  Skid's;  that  one  of  the  guard  had  been 
slashed  with  a  knife  in  the  hands  of  a  half-breed;  that 
the  patrol  had  been  pelted  with  bottles,  glasses  and  bar 
room  bric-a-brac;  that  Lieutenant  Stowe  had  been  felled 
by  a  missile  that  flattened  the  bridge  of  his  nose,  and 
that  the  prison  room  was  filled  to  the  limit,  the  colonel 
would  hear  no  more.  He  ordered  his  horse  and  a 
mounted  orderly,  strode  to  the  guard-house  to  personally 
look  over  the  prisoners,  then  set  forth  to  town  in  search 
of  the  sheriff. 

So  the  old  officer  of  the  day  and  the  old  guard  were 
relieved  and  went  about  their  business,  and  while  the 
colonel  was  closeted  with  civilian  officials  in  town  a  new 
story  started  the  rounds  at  Minneconjou — a  story  that 
only  slowly  found  its  way  to  the  officers'  club  or  quarters, 


250  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

for,  if  the  commanding  officer  did  n't  care  to  hear  it. 
Captain  Rollis,  the  old  officer  of  the  day,  cared  not  to 
refer  to  it,  but  there  was  one  set  of  quarters  besides  that 
of  Major  Dwight's  in  which  some  portion  of  the  story, 
at  least,  had  been  anticipated. 

Unable  to  sleep,  filled  with  anxiety  about  her  firstborn, 
Marion  Ray  after  midnight  had  left  her  room  and  stolen 
over  to  his,  hoping  vainly  that  he  might  have  made  his 
way  thither.  But  the  bed  was  undisturbed,  the  room 
was  empty.  Then  she  thought  perhaps  he  might  have 
fallen  asleep  in  an  easy-chair  in  the  parlor;  but  the  par 
lor,  too,  was  empty,  the  lights  turned  low.  The  front 
door  was  closed  for  the  night  and  bolted,  so  she  went 
to  the  kitchen  and  found  the  back  door  ajar.  Some 
where  out  on  sentry  post  there  was  for  a  moment  a 
murmur  of  voices,  then  silence  fell  again,  except  for 
distant  sounds  at  the  ford — sounds  to  which  they  were 
becoming  accustomed,  though  still  unreconciled. 

For  a  while  she  waited  irresolute,  vaguely  distressed, 
then,  finally,  returned  to  the  upper  floor  and  once  again 
entered  Sandy's  room  and  gazed  wistfully  about  her. 
All  was  darkness,  but  the  faint  flutter  at  the  west  window 
told  her  the  light  curtain  was  blowing  outward,  so  she 
went  thither,  drew  it  in  and  fastened  it,  then  stepped  to 
the  other  opening  to  the  south  and  looked  out  over  the 
dark  valley  of  the  Minneconjou,  the  sharp  ridge  that 
spanned  the  far  horizon,  and  the  brilliant,  spangled  sky 
above.  And  while  she  gazed,  she  listened,  hoping  every 


A    MOTHER'S    DREAD  251 

minute  to  hear  the  sound  of  his  coming,  even  though  it 
was  no  longer  the  light,  quick,  springy  step  that  before 
his  wound  was  so  like  the  step  she  so  well  remembered — 
his  father's,  in  the  old  days  of  the  — th.  She  was  just 
turning  away  disappointed  when  far  up  at  the  west  she 
heard  the  shrill  cry,  "  Corporal  of  the  guard,  No.  4 !  " 
heard  the  prompt  echo  of  No.  3,  the  more  distant  calls 
of  2.  and  i,  and,  even  before  these  last,  had  heard 
the  swift  footfalls  of  the  summoned  guardian  taking 
the  short  cut  across  the  parade.  Two — three  minutes 
she  waited,  listening  for  the  explanation.  Vaguely, 
dimly,  she  could  make  out  the  form  of  No.  3  standing 
at  the  edge  of  the  sloping  bluff,  listening,  apparently,  like 
herself,  for  explanation  of  the  call.  None  came.  Then 
the  sentry  stepped  swiftly  along  his  post  in  the  direction 
of  the  sound,  as  though  something  further  had  caught 
his  eye  or  ear.  Then  he  was  lost  to  view,  and  still  she 
waited.  Then  she  heard  a  voice  that  was  probably  the 
sentry's,  low  and  indistinct,  yet  like  the  challenge  and 
the  "  Advance  for  recognition."  Then,  a  moment  later, 
a  hurried  footfall,  almost  at  a  run — a  halting,  uneven 
footfall,  as  though  one  leg  was  not  doing  its  share,  and 
that  then  surely  meant  Sandy,  and  Sandy  would  know 
all  that  had  passed  and  would  tell  her.  Yes,  there  he 
came,  so  vague,  so  shadowy,  now  that,  had  she  not  heard 
the  sound,  she  would  not  have  looked  for  the  shadow. 
She  saw  the  dark  form  dive  quickly  through  the  gate, 
then  pause.  Instead  of  coming  further,  Sandy  had 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

stopped  and,  leaning  at  the  gate-post,  was  peering  up 
along  the  fence  line  outside.  How  unlike  Sandy  that 
seemed !  Why  should  her  son  seek  shelter  and  then  turn 
and  look  back  from  a  safe  covert  along  the  path  he  came  ? 
Something  urged  her  to  softly  call  his  name,  but,  with 
a  moment's  thought,  she  decided  against  that.  She  would 
go  down,  meet  him,  welcome  him,  see  if  there  were  not 
something  he  needed,  see  him  to  his  room,  kiss  him  again 
good-night ;  and  so  she  took  her  candle  to  the  lower  floor, 
left  it  on  the  dining-room  table,  and  finally  reached  the 
rear  door,  even  as  her  son  came  slowly  up  the  steps. 
At  that  instant  began  at  the  guard-house  the  call  of  half- 
past  twelve. 


CHAPTER    XXI 

LOVERS  LAST  APPEAL 

GOING,  as  usual,  next  day  to  read  an  hour  or  so 
to  the  invalid  major,  still  under  injunctions  not 
to  tax  his  eyes,  Miss  Sanford  became  conscious 
of  an  undercurrent  of  something  akin  to  sensation,  some 
thing  approximating  unusual  excitement.  Both  doctors 
had  earlier  been  there,  and  Wallen  came  again.  The 
hospital  attendant  seemed  abnormally  anxious  and  offi 
cious.  Felicie,  infelicitously  named,  if  it  was  her  name, 
fluttered  upstairs  and  down,  in  and  out  of  my  lady's 
chamber,  effusively  greeting  the  neighbors  who  some 
what  significantly  began  coming  in  with  anxious  in 
quiry,  tender  of  sympathy,  etc.  "  Could  n't  help  notic 
ing  the  doctor  had  been  over  three  times,  so  fearing 
the  major  might  have  had  a  turn  for  the  worse,"  etc., 
etc.,  but  it  was  n't  the  man  so  much  as  his  wife  of  whom 
they  hoped  for  tidings.  But  Felicie  could  fence,  and 
would  not  favor  even  the  adroit  with  the  desired  infor 
mation.  Madame  was  still  reposing  herself.  Madame 
would  assuredly  promenade  at  horse  or  in  vehicle  later. 
Madame  adored  the  fresh,  free  air,  and  though  Madame 
was  desolate  that,  alas,  her  physicians,  these  medicines, 
adjured  her  that  it  was  the  most  important  she  should 

233 


254  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

at  this  time  live  hours  in  the  air  and  sunshine,  and  she 
was  forbidden  the  bliss  of  sharing  her  husband's  confine 
ment  and  alleviating  his  ennui,  it  was  for  his  sake  more 
than  her  own  and  for  the  sake  of  their  cherished  hope 
that  she  meekly  yield  to  their  mandates;  and  was  it  not 
a  circumstance  the  most  felicitous  that  the  charming 
Mademoiselle  should  be  so  ever-ready  to  read  to  Monsieur 
the  Commandant? 

With  all  its  graceful,  polished  pleasantries  at  the  ex 
pense  of  the  unmarried  sister  of  thirty  and  upwards, 
the  social  world  that  professes  to  regard  her  matrimonial 
prospects  as  past  praying  for,  and  herself  as  oddly  unat 
tractive,  is  quick  to  take  alarm  when,  apparently  accept 
ing  their  unflattering  view,  she  likewise  accepts  duties 
denied,  as  a  rule,  to  those  who  are  attractive.  The  very 
girls  who  giggled  behind  "  Aunt  Priscilla's  "  back  and 
pitied  her  undesired  lot  were  promptly  and  properly  ag 
grieved  that  she  should  prove  to  be  so  forward,  so 
unmaidenly.  Because  the  right  man  does  not  happen 
to  come  into  a  woman's  life  until  so  late,  or  because  the 
wrong  one  happened  in  and  won  her  fresh  young  heart 
all  too  early,  it  results  that  many  a  better,  wiser,  lovelier 
woman  lives  unmated  to-day  than  many  a  woman  mar 
ried  in  her  teens.  Lucky  is  the  man  the  Indian  summer 
of  whose  life  is  blessed  by  the  companionship  of  such. 
Minneconjou  laughed  at  Priscilla  so  long  as  she  read  to 
the  man  in  hospital  or  the  bed-ridden  dames  in  the  mar 
ried  quarters;  but  it  shied  violently  at  her  spending  an 


LOVE'S    LAST    APPEAL  255 

hour  or  more  each  day  in  reading  to  Dwight,  even  though 
the  attendant  was  never  away,  and  Mrs.  Ray,  with  her 
needlework,  was  often  present.  Was  Minneconjou  al 
ready  consigning  the  present  incumbent  to  outer  dark 
ness  and  thinking  of  prescribing  another  mate  for  Oswald 
Dwight? 

Not  only  did  Priscilla  note  the  incessant  flittings  about 
the  house,  but  presently  she  saw  that  Dwight's  attention 
was  wandering.  From  the  adjoining  room  the  muffled 
sound  of  voices,  in  petulant  appeal  or  expostulation,  was 
at  times  distinctly  audible.  Felicie  wished  Madame  to 
do  something,  apparently,  which  Madame  was  determined 
not  to  do. 

Felicie  came  once  or  twice  with  Madame's  devoted 
love  to  'ask  if  there  was  anything  Monsieur  desired 
or  lacked,  and  to  flash  guarded  malevolence  at  Pris 
cilla.  Felicie  came  again  to  say  Madame  was  recalcitrant. 
She  feared  Monsieur  had  not  rested  well  cette  nuit,  and 
she  wished  well  to  postpone  her  promenade,  but  the  doctor 
he  had  prescribed  and  Monsieur  he  had  desired  that 
Madame  neglect  no  opportunity  to  take  the  air,  and 
would  not  Monsieur  again  conjure  Madame?  Madame 
was  deaf  to  these  the  protestations  of  her  most  devoted. 
Dwight  rose  slowly  from  his  reclining  chair  and,  excus 
ing  himself  to  the  patient  reader,  was  gone  but  a  moment 
or  two,  and  Madame  was  ravishingly  gowned  and  most 
becomingly  hatted  and  veiled  when,  just  for  a  moment, 
as  the  day's  session  was  closing  and  the  fair  reader  about 


256  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

departing,  Madame  rustled  in  to  archly  upbraid  Monsieur 
for  his  cruelty  in  ordering  her  to  take  her  drive  when 
it  was  impossible  for  him  to  be  at  her  side.  "  Ah,  but 
next  week — next  week !  " — this,  doubtless,  for  the  bene 
fit  of  Priscilla— "  we  shall  see !  " 

The  phaeton  was  at  the  door  and  Priscilla  walked 
silently,  thoughtfully,  homeward.  Aunt  Marion  was  at 
her  desk,  writing  pages  to  the  soldier-husband  and  father 
in  the  distant  Philippines.  The  sweet  face  was  looking 
grave  and  careworn.  There  were  traces  of  tears,  there 
were  dark  lines,  about  the  soft  blue  eyes,  as  Priscilla  bent 
and  tenderly  kissed  her.  "  Do  come  down  and  let  me 
make  you  a  cup  of  tea,"  she  pleaded.  "  You've  been 
writing — and  I  reading — long.  I'd  like  some,  too.  Is — 
is  Sandy  home?" 

"Riding,"  said  Aunt  Marion  briefly,  and  Priscilla 
knew. 

Ordinarily,  half  a  dozen  women  would  come  drifting 
in  to  Mrs.  Ray's  during  the  summer  afternoon.  To-day 
there  were  none.  They  heard  voices  on  the  walk,  voices 
that  seemed  to  hush  as  the  gate  was  neared,  and  only 
to  resume  in  low  tone  after  it  was  passed.  Priscilla 
could  not  account  for  the  unusual  depression  that  had 
seemed  to  possess  Aunt  Marion  even  when  struggling 
against  it  herself.  At  breakfast  time  Aunt  Marion  had 
been  unusually  silent,  unusually  watchful  of  Sandy,  who, 
before  he  would  touch  his  fruit  or  sip  his  coffee,  had 
gone  forth  to  the  bench  in  rear  of  quarters,  searching, 


LOVE'S    LAST    APPEAL  257 

he  said,  for  some  memoranda  he  might  have  dropped 
out  there  at  night.  He  had  hunted  all  through  the 
pockets  of  his  khaki  rig,  that  he  happened  to  be  wearing 
at  that  time,  and  to  no  purpose.  He  must  have  whipped 
it  out  with  his  handkerchief,  he  said — "  just  that  little 
flat  memorandum  book  "  they  had  often  seen  him  have, 
with  a  few  loose  pages — no  earthly  use  to  anybody  but 
him,  no  great  consequence,  and  yet,  after  breakfast,  he 
was  searching  again,  and  had  Hogan  searching,  and 
again  he  returned  and  hunted  all  through  his  room,  and 
investigated  cook  and  housemaid,  and  again  went  forth. 
Priscilla  found  herself  unable  to  cast  it  from  her  mind 
or  to  cause  her  aunt  to  forget  it.  Sandy  had  been  gone 
an  hour  when  she  returned,  and  had  said  not  to  wait 
dinner ;  he  might  ride  late  and  long  and  far. 

"  But  not  toward  the  reservation,"  he  assured  his 
mother,  seeing  the  trouble  in  her  face.  "  Though  I'd 
more  than  like  to  ride  over  there  with  the  troop  and 
round  up  those  blackguard  reds  that  turned  me  back." 

"  Those  blackguard  reds "  were  forbidden  by  their 
agent  to  set  foot  north  of  the  Minneconjou,  where  the 
ranchers  and  settlers  and  miners  were  frequent.  But 
still  the  mother  was  anxious,  filled  with  dread  she  could 
not  speak,  and  even  as  she  now  sat,  absently  toying  with 
her  teaspoon,  the  maid  came  in  with  a  note.  "  A  sol 
dier  friend  of  Blenke "  had  just  brought  it  for  Miss 
Sanford. 

So  Priscilla  opened  and  read: 


258  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

Miss  Sanford  will  pardon,  I  pray,  the  liberty  I  probably  take  in 
presuming  to  address  her,  but  our  plea  to  the  captain  was  fruit 
less.  He  insists  on  my  going  with  the  detachment  to  the  wood 
camp;  so,  long  before  this  reaches  Miss  Sanford  we  shall  have 
started,  and  it  may  be  days  before  relief  will  come.  Meantime, 
with  my  assurance  that  with  Heaven's  help  I  shall  yet  redeem 
myself  in  her  estimation,  I  remain  Miss  Sanford's  grateful  and 
humble  servant,  P.  BLENKE. 

Verily,  the  young  man  wrote  with  a  pen  of  the  courtier 
and  scholar  of  olden  time  rather  than  the  rude  trooper. 
Verily,  Blenke  was  a  man  of  parts — and  played  them. 

"  Where  is  that  wood  camp  ?  "  asked  Aunt  Marion,  with 
languid  interest,  relieved,  she  knew  not  why,  that  Blenke 
should  be  gone. 

"  Far  up  the  foothills — west.  It  seems  that  lately  the 
Indians  have  been  threatening  and  abusive,"  said  Priscilla. 
"  That's  why  the  guard  was  sent.  They  march  soon  after 
reveille,  and — he  was  so  unwilling  to  go  just  now,  when 
he  hoped  to  arrange  matters  about  his — commission," 
and  Miss  Sanford's  clear  gray  eyes,  much  finer  and  softer 
they  seemed  without  the  pince  nez,  were  lifted  again,  half 
timidly,  half  hopefully. 

"  How  could  he  expect  or  hope  for  such  a  thing  now  ?  " 
answered  Mrs.  Ray,  with  some  asperity.  "  What  officer 
would  recommend  him  after  that — that  exhibition  ?  " 

Priscilla  colored.  That  episode  was  a  sore  point,  but 
not  a  settler.  "  He  said  it  depended  little  on  the  officers., 
auntie,"  was  the  gently  forceful  answer,  "  so  long  as  he 


LOVE'S    LAST    APPEAL  259 

had  the  senator  behind  him."  Whereupon  Aunt  Marion 
arose  and  peered  through  the  one  window  in  the  little 
dining-room  that  opened  to  the  west.  She  was  forever 
peering  up  the  valley  now,  and  Priscilla  well  knew  why. 
The  maid  again  appeared.  "  Phelps,  ma'am,  Blenke's 
friend,  came  back  with  this,"  and  she  held  forth  a  letter. 
"  He  said  it  was  found  on  sentry  post  up  the  bench." 

Mrs.  Ray  turned  quickly  and  held  forth  her  hand. 
Silently  Miss  Sanford  passed  the  letter  to  her.  It  was 
an  ordinary  missive,  in  business  envelope,  addressed  to 
Lieutenant  Sanford  Ray,  Fort  Minneconjou,  and  it  had 
been  opened.  The  torn  flap  revealed  the  fact  that  there 
were  two  or  three  separate  inclosures.  For  a  moment 
Mrs.  Ray  turned  it  in  her  slender  fingers,  thinking  in 
tently,  then,  suddenly  recollecting,  told  the  maid  to  give 
her  thanks  to  the  soldier  if  he  were  still  waiting.  She 
wished  to  ask  had  anything  else  been  found,  but  that, 
if  he  cared  to,  was  for  Sandy  to  do  when  he  came.  Then 
she  took  the  letter  to  her  room,  and  stowed  it  in  a  pigeon 
hole  of  her  desk  against  her  boy's  return — then  sat  her 
down  to  wait. 

Meanwhile  the  object  of  so  much  thought  and  love 
and  care  had  ridden  many  a  mile,  his  brain  in  a  whirl  of 
conflicting  emotions.  There  had  come  to  him  the  pre 
vious  night,  in  the  interval  between  that  brief  interview 
with  Blenke  and  the  later  meeting  with  his  mother,  a 
messenger  with  a  note.  It  was  the  same  messenger, 
Butts,  the  soldier  groom,  who  had  only  a  short  time 


260  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

earlier  met  him  with  her  note  upon  the  parade.     Rays 
fleeing  from  a  possible  meeting  with  Priscilla,  had  left 
her  and  her  soldier  protege  together,  and  slipping  out 
of  the  rear  gate    had  gone  walking  up  the  bluffs.     It 
was  not  quite  time  for  taps  and  the  sentries  to  begin 
challenging.     He  could  have  gone  through  the  yard  of 
any  one  of  the  adjacent  quarters  and  so  reach  the  front, 
the  promenade  walk  and  the  wide  parade,  but  he  wished 
to  be  alone,  under  the  starry  skies.     He  needed  to  think. 
What  could  she  have  meant  by  saying,  "  How  they  tricked 
me— how   I   lost  you?"     He   had   blamed   her   bitterly, 
savagely,  for  her  cold-blooded,  heartless  jilting  of  him, 
without  ever  a  word  of  explanation.    It  was  so  cruel,  so 
abominable    a    thing    that,    perhaps,    even    Inez    Farrell 
could  not,  without  some  excuse  or  reason,  be  guilty  of  it. 
And  now  she  was  striving  to  tell  him,  to  make  him  un 
derstand;  now  she  was  alienated  from  her  husband  and 
not,  so  Dwight's  own  references  to  Foster  would  go  to 
prove,  not  because  of  this  affair  with  Captain  Foster.    She 
said  it  was  her  right  to  be  heard.     Perhaps  it  was.     If 
she   had  been  tricked,   deceived,   wronged— such   things 
had  happened— the  story  was  old  as  the  Deluge  and  might 
be  true,  and  if  true,  was  it  decent  to  treat  her  with  studied 
contempt?     If  she  had  been  tricked  into  throwing  him 
over — if,  if  she  had  been  true  in  saying  she  loved  him, 
as  fervently  she  swore  that  last  sweet  night  under  the 
cherry  blossoms  in  Japan,  was  it  manly  to— to  crush  and 
scorn  her  now? 


LOVE'S    LAST    APPEAL  261 

He  was  again,  with  downcast  eyes,  slowly  pacing  the 
bluff  and  in  rear  of  the  major's  quarters  when,  far  over 
toward  the  guard-house,  the  soft,  prolonged  notes  of 
"  Lights  out "  were  lifted  on  the  night,  and  he  almost 
collided  with  a  man  coming  quickly  forth  from  the  gate. 
The  rear  door  had  closed  with  a  bang  but  the  moment 
before,  and  Felicie's  voice,  in  subdued  tone,  had  been 
faintly  audible.  The  man  proved  to  be  the  same  who  had 
come  to  him  so  short  a  time  before,  and  the  mission  was 
practically  the  same,  "  A  note  for  the  lieutenant." 

Ray  took  it  to  the  west  gate  and  read  it  under  the  lamp. 

I  ask  for  only  five  minutes,  at  the  old  place,  about  the  same 
hour  to-morrow.  I  will  never  ask  again,  for  I  am  to  leave 
Minneconjou — and  him — forever. 

Startled,  stunned,  he  read  her  words.  Was  it  then  so 
very  serious  as  this  would  imply?  Was  it  her  doing,  or 
her  husband's,  that  she  should  leave?  Was  it  possible 
that  he,  Sandy  Ray,  was  even  remotely  a  cause?  He 
could  not  fathom  it.  He  would  not  rudely  refuse.  That 
would  be  simply  brutal.  But  why  could  she  not  see  him 
here  at  home  on  the  veranda?  Why  must  the  meeting 
be  so  far  from  the  post — so  close  to  the — clandestine? 

Mother  had  said Then  suddenly  he  bethought  him 

that  mother  wished  to  speak  with  him,  that  he  had 
promised  her  to  be  home  about  taps,  and,  even  though  he 
could  not,  dare  not,  talk  with  her  to-night,  he  could  and 
should  go  to  her  at  once. 


262  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

He  started;  then,  hearing  laughing  voices  and  light 
footsteps  along  the  walk  ahead  of  him,  hesitated.    Some 
of  those  teasing,  tormenting  garrison  girls,  of  course! 
He  could  not   face  them.     Abruptly  he  turned  again, 
passed  round  in  rear  of  Dwight's,  stowing  the  note  in  a 
little  notebook  as  he  sped  and  the  book  in  the  breast 
pocket  of  his  khaki  tunic.     Some  backstair  flirtation  was 
going  on  in  the  dusk  of  the  summer  night,  not  ten  paces 
ahead,  for  there  was  sound  of  playful  Hibernian  plead 
ing,  a  laughing,  half-repelling,  half-inviting  "  Ah,  g'wan 
now !  "  followed  by  a  slap.    A  trim  young  trooper  leaped 
backward  from  a  gateway  to  avoid  another  shock — and 
met  it  on  Ray's  stout  shoulder.     The  collision  startled 
one  and  staggered  both.     The  Irish  lad,  all  confusion, 
sprang  for  his  officer's  hat  and  restored  it  with,  "  Beg  a 
thousand  pardons,   Lieutenant,"  and  blessed  his  young 
superior's  kindly,  "  No  harm  done,  Kelly,"  as,  whipping 
out  his  handkerchief,  Ray  sped  along,  dusting  off  the 
felt. 

And  that  harm  had  been  done  he  never  knew  till  later. 

He  had  managed  to  put  mother  off  until  the  following 
day;  had  gone  forth  a  second  time,  as  has  been  told; 
had  passed  a  second  time  the  gate  where  earlier  in  the 
evening  she  had  awaited  him.  All  at  the  moment  was 
apparently  quiet.  He  had  almost  reached  home  when 
the  sound  of  harsh  voices  out  beyond  the  east  gate  caught 
his  ear — more  poor  devils  coming  or  being  dragged  home 
from  the  hog  ranch.  Suddenly  there  came  the  sound  of 


LOVE'S    LAST    APPEAL  263 

muffled  curses  and  blows.  Sandy  wondered  why  No.  2, 
did  not  call  the  corporal.  He  hastened  onward  and  out 
beyond  the  gate  and  came  upon  the  explanation:  no 
need  to  call  the  corporal  when  two  were  already  there, 
with  several  of  the  guard,  striving  hard  to  lug  peaceably 
to  the  prison  room  a  sextette  of  soldier  revelers  who 
resented  being  either  lugged  or  persuaded.  The  guard 
could  n't  bear  to  hurt  their  fellows:  who  could  say 
but  that  conditions  and  parties  might  be  reversed  within 
the  week?  The  row  subsided  with  the  sight  of  Lieu 
tenant  Ray,  but  not  until  it  had  prevented  his  hearing 
the  call  for  the  corporal  that  came  from  No.  4.  He 
found  the  front  door  bolted  when  he  got  back  to  the 
house,  and,  remembering  having  bolted  it,  passed  round 
to  the  rear  steps  and  then — met  his  mother  at  the  door. 

She  had  even  more  to  ask  him  then,  yet  once  more  he 
pleaded :  "  Wait  until  to-morrow  night."  So  wait  she 
did,  patiently,  prayerfully,  trustfully,  until  the  morrow's 
night;  and  then,  not  so  patiently,  but,  oh,  even  more 
prayerfully,  longer,  very  much  longer. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE  LOST   FOUND 

A  the  usual  place  and  about  the  usual  hour  "  the 
pretty  phaeton,  with  its  fair  charioteer  and  her 
black-browed  companion,  drew  up  that  afternoon 
under  such  shade  as  the  cottonwoods  afforded  and 
waited  for  the  coming  of  a  rider  who,  starting  some 
time  ahead,  was  now  some  time  behind.  Nor  did  he  seem 
to  hasten  when  finally  he  came  suddenly  into  view  at  the 
mouth  of  that  well-remembered  ravine,  and  rode  straight 
but  slowly  to  the  rendezvous.  She,  the  charioteer,  ex 
quisitely  gowned  as  we  saw  her  parting  from  her  invalid 
husband,  watched  him  with  dilating  eyes,  alighted  as  he 
neared  the  grove,  walked  a  dozen  yards  or  so  to  meet 
him  and  by  his  side  as  he  led  his  mount  to  a  point  beyond 
earshot  of  the  carriage.  ff  You  may  trust  that  woman, 
Mrs.  Dwight,"  said  he,  "  but  I  do  not.  I  have  come  at 
last  and  against  my  judgment  to  hear " 

"Mrs.  Dwight!"  she  began,  with  pouting  reproach. 
"  Are  we  at  the  hop  room,  Sandy,  or  are  we," — and 
the  dark  eyes  slowly  lifted, — "  are  we  back  again  at 
Nagasaki?" 

"  We  are  never  that! "  was  the  quick  reply,  as  he  bent 
and  knotted  the  reins  about  a  sapling  at  the  brink;  then, 

264 


THE    LOST    FOUND  265 

suddenly  facing,  her:  "I  said  I  should  not  meet  you 
here  again.  I  have  come  for  this  last  time  solely  at  your 
urging.  Never  until  this  week  have  I  shrunk  from  my 
mother.  Never  after  this  day  shall  I  do  it  again.  You 
say  I  have  wronged  you — hurt  you — inexpressibly,  and 
you  wish  to  tell  me  why.  Go  ahead !  " 

With  that  he  pulled  his  hatbrim  well  down  to  his  eye 
brows,  folded  his  arms,  crossed  one  spurred  heel  over 
the  tan-booted  mate  and  leaned  against  a  sturdy  cotton- 
wood.  There  was  just  a  spice  of  the  theatrical  about 
it  all,  but  he  was  young,  sore-hearted  and  hurt.  It  left 
no  support  for  her,  unless  she  leaned  on  him,  which  noth 
ing  in  his  attitude  seemed  to  invite.  Inez  had  no  use 
for  folded  arms.  To  her  they  should  be  either  out 
stretched  or  enfolding. 

"  You  are  harsh  and  cold  and  bitter,  Sandy.  You 
make  it  so  much  harder  for  me  to  begin/'  she  whim 
pered,  pathetically,  prettily,  like  a  spoiled  child  sure  of 
ultimate  triumph.  "  Why  did  you  never  answer  my  letter 
from  San  Francisco  ?  "" 

"  I  never  got  it." 

'  Then  even  that  early  he  had  begun  to  doubt  me  and 
to  fear — you,"  and  again  the  lovely  eyes  were  making 
play.  "  And  now  he  hates  me,  because  he  himself  was 
a  brute  to  his  boy.  He  upbraids  me  for  that,  and — and 
for  Mr.  Foster." 

"God!    I  should  think  he  might!" 

"  Sandy,   Sandy !  "  she  cried,   stepping  impetuously  a 


266  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

pace  nearer.  "  Do  you,  too — do  you  dare  think  me  so 
base — me,  when  at  Naples  I  would  not  even  let  you 
stay — you  whom  I  longed  to  speak  with?  Ah,  how  un 
just! — how  mean!  how  cruel!  And  now,  when  I  am 
almost  friendless,  you  who  professed  so  much — you  are 
the  first  to  turn  from  me."  Indeed,  he  was  turning,  and 
his  face  was  growing  very  white  again — his  eyes  were 
gazing  anywhere  but  at  her,  and  she  saw  it,  and  with 
both  her  firm  little  hands  seized  his  left  arm  as  though 
to  turn  him  back.  "  Sandy,  you  shall  hear  me,  for  I'm 
desperate,  starving,  and  that  man,  he — he  tells  me  I  lied 
to  him ;  and  I  did,  I  did  lie— for  you!  He  talks  to  me  of 
a — settlement — of  sending  me  home.  Why,  I  have  no 
home!  I  have  no  father.  My  own  was  buried  years 
ago.  I  have  no  mother,  for  she  has  no  thought  but  for 
him — who  has  disgraced  us  all  and  robbed  Major  Dwight 
of  thousands  and  dared  to  threaten  me — tne,  because  the 
major  would  not  send  more.  Oh,  you  shall  listen!  It's 
for  the  last  time,  Sandy,  and  you  shall  know  the  truth ! 

Oh,  how  can  you  so  humiliate  a  woman  who — who 

Look  at  me,  Sandy,  look,  oh,  my  soldier  boy,  and  see  for 
yourself!  They  robbed  me  of  you,  my  heart's  darling! 
They  stole  every  letter.  They  never  let  me  see  you,  and 

they Oh,  you  think  this  the  old  worn-out  story  of  the 

cruel  parent  and  the  suffering  child,  but  I  will  convince 
you !  "  And  now  her  hands  quit  their  hold  upon  his  arm 
and  tore  at  the  bosom  of  her  dainty  gown— tore  it  open  to 
the  filmv  lace  and  ribbon  underneath— tore  off  the  driv- 


THE    LOST    FOUND  267 

ing  glove  from  her  right  hand,  hurling  it  to  the  ground, 
and  then  the  slim,  nervous  little  fingers  went  burrowing 
within.  "  You  dare  doubt  I  love  you !  "  she  cried,  and 
now  her  eyes  were  ablaze,  her  rich,  red  lips  were  parted, 
her  breath  came  panting  through  the  pearly  gate,  her 
young  bosom  was  heaving  like  a  troubled  sea.  "  I  told 
you  I  had  burned  your  letters — such  as  I  had.  They 
burned  them  for  me,  but  they  could  not  burn  your  pic 
ture /  did  that — I,  with  my  mad  kisses,  Sandy !  " 

And  from  its  warm  nest  she  drew  it,  the  very  one  he  had 
given  her  in  Manila,  the  brave,  boyish  face  in  its  tiny 
frame  of  gold,  moist  and  blurred  as  though  indeed  her 
lips,  her  tears,  had  worn  it  dim.  "  You  will  not  look?  " 
though  one  quick  glance  he  shot,  then,  with  the  blood 
surging  through  his  veins,  he  turned  again  and  covered 
his  eyes  with  his  arm.  "  Then  hear — this — and  this," 
and  long,  passionately,  repeatedly  she  kissed  the  sense 
less,  unresponsive  counterfeit,  and  then,  letting  it  hang 
by  its  slender  chain,  once  more  seized  his  arm  and  burst 
into  a  passion  of  tears.  Then  suddenly,  fiercely,  she 
thrust  him  aside,  turned,  started  swiftly  away,  took  but 
four  tottering  steps  and,  finally,  almost  as  she  did  the 
day  of  the  drive,  toppled  headlong. 

When  Felicie  thought  it  time  to  take  another  decorous 
look,  Mr.  Ray  was  kneeling  by  that  fair,  prostrate  form, 
lifting  the  lovely  head  upon  his  knee,  one  arm  about  her 
neck,  the  other  drawing  her  to  his  breast,  and  he  was 
raining  kiss  after  kiss  upon  the  sweeping,  long-lasheJ 


268  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

eyelids,  upon  the  pallid  cheek,  upon  the  exquisite  mouth, 
and  presently  a  slender  arm  stole  languidly  about  his 
neck  and  drew  and  held  his  lips  to  hers. 

It  was  nearly  five  that  evening  when  the  pretty  phaeton 
whirled  homeward  through  the  west  gate.  It  was  nearly 
nine  when  Lieutenant  Ray  came  slowly  uphill  from  the 
stables  and,  climbing  the  short  flight  to  the  rear  doorway, 
found  his  mother  and  Priscilla  awaiting  him  in  the  dining- 
room.  He  had  eaten  nothing  since  a  late  breakfast,  and 
an  appetizing  supper  was  in  readiness.  He  looked  very 
pale,  very  tired,  and  to  the  fond  and  anxious  eyes  uplifted 
hopefully  at  first,  very  ill — too  ill,  perhaps,  to  note  how 
ill  she  looked,  the  loving  and  tender  and  faithful  one, 
who  long  hours  had  been  waiting,  watching,  listening 
for  his  step,  praying  for  his  safe  return,  hoping  for  the 
promised  confidence.  She  knew  when  the  phaeton  came, 
though  she  said  naught  of  it  to  her  niece.  Nearly  a 
mile  of  the  valley  road  could  be  seen  from  Sandy's  win 
dow,  where  she  hovered  much  of  the  time  until  the  sun 
went  down.  Now  she  quickly  rose  and  went  to  him, 
and  with  her  soft  hands  on  his  temples  kissed  his  fore 
head,  for  he  bowed  his  head,  and  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life  his  lips  dared  not  even  touch  her  cheek.  "  I— 
I'm  about  used  up,  mother,"  he  faltered.  "  I— can  I 
have  some  tea?  Then  I'll  get  a  warm  bath,  please,  and 
go  to  bed.  Has — anyone  been  here  for  me — inquired 
for  me?" 

The  sudden  upward  look,  the  anxiety  in  his  tone,  might 


i 

THE    LOST    FOUND 

well  have  warned  her,  but  there  was  something  she  had 
to  know,  something  that  ever  since  evening  gunfire  had 
been  preying  on  her  mind.  No.  4's  story  had  spread  by 
this  time  all  over  the  post,  growing,  probably,  with  each 
repetition.  There  had  been  a  tragic  scene  of  some  kind 
at  Major  Dwight's  shortly  after  midnight.  Jimmy  had 
prepared  her  for  that  much.  No.  4  had  heard  screams ; 
then  lights  went  flitting  to  and  fro,  and  there  was  sound 
of  scuffling  and  running  about,  and  the  guard  had  almost 
arrested  someone  who  came  dashing  from  the  rear  gate 
and  was  lost  in  the  darkness  and  the  yards  below.  No, 
nobody  had  come  to  ask  for  Sandy !  It  seemed  strange 
that  so  very  few  of  the  officers  had  even  passed  that 
way.  Everybody  had  business  at  the  office,  the  Club,  the 
barracks,  the  guard-house;  even  at  Dwight's  there  had 
been  a  sort  of  impromptu  conference,  but  nobody  had 
been  there  to  disturb  them  in  any  way — no  officers,  at 
least ;  but  Sandy  read  the  impending  truth  in  his  mother's 
eyes.  She  was  talking  nervously,  with  hardly  a  pause, 
as  though  she  wished  him  to  know  all  she  knew  before 
he  could  speak,  and,  even  as  Priscilla  moved  noiselessly 
about,  brewing  his  tea  and  arranging  his  supper,  Marion, 
the  mother,  talked  rapidly,  wretchedly  on. 

Yes,  there  was  something.  The  notebook  had  been 
found  and  brought  home.  She  would  get  it  for  him. 
It  was  right  there  in  her  desk.  Priscilla  handed  it,  and 
he  almost  snatched  it  from  her,  swiftly  turning  the 
leaves ;  then,  seizing  it  by  the  back,  shook  it  vehemently. 


270  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

A  few  scraps  and  clippings  fluttered  to  the  floor,  but  not 
the  paper  he  needed. 

"  Who  brought  it?  How  did  it  come?  "  he  demanded, 
a  world  of  trouble,  almost  terror,  in  his  eyes. 

"  Major  D wight's  man,"  she  answered,  her  blue  eyes 
almost  imploringly  fixed  upon  his  face. 

"  Dwight's  man!  But  how,  how,  mother?  Was  there 
no  word?  Was  it  wrapped,  or ?" 

"  Just  as  you  see  it,  Sandy.  He  merely  said  it  had 
been  picked  up  and  left  at  the  house.  He  brought  it 
here  when  he  heard  it  was  yours." 

The  tea  stood  untasted  before  him.  He  had  not  even 
taken  his  seat.  Pale  to  his  lips,  and  with  hands  that 
trembled  almost  as  did  her  own,  Sandy  stood  facing  his 
mother,  and  Priscilla  stepped  quietly  from  the  room. 

"  Did  he  say  who  found  it — and  where  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  He  finally  said  it  was — picked  up  at  Major  Dwight's," 
was  her  answer,  and  imploringly  still  the  blue  eyes 
searched  his  face,  and  for  an  instant  lighted  with  hope, 

"  But  I  never  set  foot  at  Major  Dwight's — I've  never 
been  inside  his  gates  since  I  called  there  with  you.  The 
nearest  I've  been  was  the  front  gate,  and  then,  this 
could  n't  have  been  with  me." 

"Why,  Sandy?" 

"  Because  it  was  in  the  breast  pocket  of  my  khaki — 
the  thing  I  wore  when  we  said  good-night ;  but  it  seemed 
to  grow  chilly — or  I  did.  I  changed  to  the  blue  coat 
before  going  out  at  twelve.  Lucky,  too,  for  I  had  to  go 


THE    LOST    FOUND  271 

out  front  and  help  with  some  poor  devils  brought  in  from 
Skid's.  I  saw  your  light  when  coming  home  over  the 
parade  and  wondered  if  the  row  had  kept  you  awake." 

"You — came  in  the  front  way,  Sandy?"  And  the 
blue  eyes  seemed  to  implore  him  to  stop,  to  reflect,  to 
remember. 

"  Why,  certainly,  mother.  I  was  afraid  you'd  hear 
me  trying  the  front  door  or  hobbling  round  on  the  planks. 
What  brought Why,  mother!" 

With  her  heart  almost  stilled,  with  her  hands  on  her 
breast,  with  a  blanched  face  and  stricken  eyes,  Marion 
slowly  found  her  feet,  then  rested  one  hand  upon  the 
table  before  she  could  steady  herself  to  speak: 

"  Sandy,  think !  Do  you  mean  you  were  not — there 
when  the  sentry  No.  4  called;  that  you  did  not  come 
hurrying  home  and  stop  there — at  the  back  gate  ?  " 

"  Mother,  dear,  what  can  you  mean  ?  When  I  met 
you  at  the  door  I  had  just  come  round  from  the  front, 
from  over  near  the  guard-house.  The  officer  of  the 
guard  had  his  hands  full  and Priscilla,  quick !  " 

And  Priscilla  came  at  speed,  and,  after  one  swift  look 
as  they  lifted  the  drooping  form  to  a  sofa,  whispered: 
"The  doctor!  Run!" 

And  though  running  was  beyond  him,  Sandy  limped 
in  frantic  haste,  for  the  mother's  heart  and  health  had 
seemed  failing  her  for  weeks,  and  this  was  most  alarm 
ing.  Even  at  ten  o'clock  she  had  not  fully  regained 
consciousness,  but  was  mending,  and  by  that  time  both 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

doctors  had  come  to  her,  and  Mrs.  Stone  was  at  her 
bedside,  while  Priscilla,  calm,  grave  and  self-poised,  was 
answering  the  many  anxious,  sorrowful  inquiries,  for 
no  woman  at  Minneconjou  was  loved  and  honored  more 
than  Marion  Ray,  who,  believing  the  evidence  of  her 
own  senses  sufficient  to  confirm  an  ever-growing,  dread 
ful  suspicion,  had  gone  down  under  the  blow. 

There  had  been,  as  was  said,  some  kind  of  conference 
during  the  late  afternoon.  The  colonel,  the  post  sur 
geon,  two  or  three  wise-heads  among  the  field  and  senior 
line  officers  and  that  indispensable  adjutant.  There  had 
come  quite  late  an  aide-de-camp  of  the  department  com 
mander,  who  had  been  at  Wister  and  at  some  investiga 
tion  over  at  the  Minneconjou  agency,  who  had  some 
thing  so  say  concerning  the  state  of  mind  in  which  he 
found  Captain  Foster,  which  was  bad;  the  state  of 
mind  in  which  he  found  the  redmen — which  was  worse; 
and  finally  the  state  of  things  on  both  sides  of  the  stream 
at  Minneconjou — which  was  worst  of  all.  Foster's  ran 
cor  against  Ray  was  venomous  as  ever,  and  he  claimed 
to  have  new  evidence,  the  mention  of  which  made  both 
Stone  and  the  surgeon  look  grave.  The  agent's  worry 
as  to  his  turbulent  charges  was  doubled  by  new  events, 
and  he  demanded  immediate  aid.  The  post  guard  reports 
and  the  ranch-keeper's  defiance  told  all  too  vividly  how 
the  devil  had  triumphed  at  Minneconjou.  The  colonel, 
the  chaplain,  the  commissioned  force,  were  helpless 
against  the  Act  of  Congress  that  had  taken  away  their 


THE    LOST    FOUND  273 

best  hold  on  the  men  and  turned  the  men  over  to  the 
enemy.  The  situation,  so  far  as  Skid  and  his  saloon  and 
satellites  were  concerned,  was  past  praying  for.  But 
there  were  "  some  things,  thank  God,"  said  Stone,  in 
which  he  could  still  strike  for  the  good  name  of  his  gar 
rison.  Foster's  new  evidence  should  be  investigated,  said 
he,  and  as  for  the  agent,  he  should  have  his  guard,  and 
a  strong  on?,  forthwith. 

"How  did  you  leave  Mrs.  Ray,  doctor?"  he  asked 
his  medical  man  and  next-door  neighbor  on  the  left,  as 
Waring  came  tramping  home  soon  after  taps. 

"  Resting  quietly,  colonel.  She  will  do  very  well  to 
morrow." 

Stone  had  come  down  to  the  gate  to  meet  him.  One 
glance  he  threw  to  the  right  and  left,  then  lowered  his 
voice. 

"  Any  reason  why  Sandy  should  n't  go  in  command 
of  a  guard  to  the  agency  in  the  morning?" 

"  No  reason  why  he  should  n't,  sir,  and — several  why 
he  should." 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

A  WELCOME  PERIL 

FOR  such  light  duty  as  he  may  be  able  to  perform/' 
read  the  order  that  had  brought  Sandy  Ray  to 
Minneconjou.  First  it  was  the  Canteen,  and 
under  the  young  officer's  zealous  management  that 
fiercely  assailed  and  finally  abolished  institution  had  been 
a  credit  to  the  post  and  a  comfort  to  the  men.  It  was 
not  the  duty  Ray  best  loved,  by  any  means,  but,  being 
debarred  by  his  wound  from  active  exercise,  compelled 
as  yet  to  ride  slowly  and  with  caution,  he  had  thankfully 
accepted  and  thoroughly  performed  it.  Then  had  come 
his  serious  trouble,  and  then,  when,  had  he  known  the 
stones  in  circulation,  he  should  have  remained  to  face 
them,  he  was  ordered  away,  leaving,  like  Sir  Peter  Teazle, 
his  character  behind  him. 

He  was  ordered  to  a  difficult,  probably  dangerous  and 
possibly  perilous  duty,  and,  knowing  this,  he  could  not 
for  an  instant  delay  or  demur.  It  was  n't  in  the  blood 
of  the  Rays  to  shirk.  Far  better  might  it  have  been  for 
Sandy  had  someone,  either  friend  or  foe,  suggested  that 
his  being  selected,  when  he  belonged  to  neither  regiment 
represented  in  the  garrison,  was  in  itself  intimation  that 
the  stories  at  his  expense  were  believed,  and  if  that  were 

274 


A    WELCOME    PERIL  £75 

true  he  should  be  sent  to  Coventry— not  to  command. 
There  were  young  fellows  in  both  the  cavalry  and  in 
fantry  at  Minneconjou  who  would  eagerly  have  welcomed 
the  detail,  with  its  chance  of  swelling  an  efficiency  record. 
Under  any  other  circumstances  there  might  have  been 
protest,  there  would  have  been  growling.  Now  there 
were  only  silence  and  significant  looks.  Even  at  the  Club 
(Minneconjou  had  set  its  seal  against  the  time-honored, 
but  misleading,  appellation  "Mess"),  where  her  name 
could  not  be  mentioned,  even  in  a  whisper,  the  order  was 
accepted  without  comment.  There  was  a  woman  in  the 
case! 

Ordinarily,  under  circumstances  demanding  the  detail 
of  a  guard  for  such  purposes,  post  commanders  would 
send  a  company  under  a  captain,  or  half  a  company  under 
a  subaltern ;  but  Stone  hated  to  lose  a  unit  from  his  regi 
mental  line.  He  had  sent  to  the  wood  camp  a  sergeant 
with  a  dozen  picked  men — one  or  two  from  each  of  his 
infantry  companies.  Now  he  sent  a  lieutenant  and  thirty 
of  the  rank  and  file,  selected  at  random,  to  the  aid  of 
the  agent.  Of  this  thirty  a  sergeant,  two  corporals  and 
twelve  men  were  taken  from  the  squadron,  for  it  might 
be  necessary  to  send  out  mounted  men  to  make  arrests, 
said  the  agent,  and  the  agency  police  were  sullen  over 
recent  happenings.  Sandy  was  notified  by  a  call  from 
the  post  adjutant  about  n  130,  just  as  he  was  softly  lock 
ing  up  for  the  night.  He  listened  in  silence,  made  no 
comment,  asked  no  questions,  completed  his  few  prepara- 


276  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

tions,  bade  Priscilla  keep  it  all  from  his  mother  until 
after  he  was  gone,  for  rest  and  sleep  were  most  essential, 
and  at  dawn,  with  dark-rimmed  eyes  and  solemn  face, 
he  stole  to  the  half-open  doorway,  beyond  which  the 
night  lamp  dimly  glowed;  listened;  entered  one  moment 
and  softly  kissed  the  dear  hand  that  lay  so  wearily  upon 
the  coverlet;  looked  fondly  at  the  gentle,  care-worn  face, 
and  then,  with  firm,  set  lips,  turned  stealthily  away. 
Priscilla  was  up  and  had  hot  coffee  ready  for  him  below 
stairs,  and  possibly  admonition,  but  this  she  spared  him. 
Oh,  if  Priscilla  had  but  known  what  Aunt  Marion  had 
seen  at  the  rear  gate  two  nights  before,  what  might  she 
not  have  said  to  both !  for  Priscilla,  too,  had  had  her 
vigil,  had  both  seen  and  heard  and  knew  more  than  Aunt 
Marion  even  thought  she  knew. 

"  It  is  barely  ten  miles,"  said  Sandy.  "  Couriers  will 
be  riding  to  and  fro.  Then  there's  the  telephone  by  way 
of  town,  unless  the  wires  are  cut.  Let  me  hear  of  mother 
night  and  morning,  Pris.  Now,  I've  got  to  go." 

She  stood  at  the  window  of  his  room  an  hour  later, 
watching  the  little  command  as  it  wound  away  among 
the  dips  and  waves  of  the  southward  prairie,  until  finally 
lost  to  sight.  This  was  a  new  phase  to  the  situation. 
Priscilla  had  never  pictured  the  modern  redman  save 
as  she  had  heard  him  described  at  church  sociables,  peace 
society  meetings  and  the  occasional  addresses  of  inspired 
"  Friends  of  the  Indian,"  who  came  soliciting  the  sympa 
thies — and  subscriptions — of  the  congregation.  The  few 


A    WELCOME    PERIL  277 

specimens  that  had  met  her  gaze  about  town,  the  station 
and  the  fords  were,  she  felt  sure,  and  justly  sure,  but 
frowsy  representatives  of  a  magnificent  race.  It  was 
only  when  the  agent,  himself  a  godly  man,  had  come 
and  told  his  recent  troubles,  after  evening  service,  that 
Priscilla  began  to  realize  how,  despite  his  innate  nobility 
of  character  and  exalted  ideals  and  eloquence,  the  aver 
age  ward  of  the  nation  was  not  built  on  the  lofty  plane  of 
Logan,  Osceola  and  Chief  Joseph.  He  was  quite  capable 
of  extravagant  demands  of  his  own  and  of  raising  the 
devil  when  he  did  n't  get  what  he  wanted. 

There  were  other  eyes,  and  anxious  eyes,  along  the 
bluffs  and  the  southward  windows  of  officers'  row.  There 
were  women  and  children,  even  at  that  early  hour,  clus 
tered  at  the  little  mound  beyond  the  west  gate,  whence 
the  last  peep  could  be  had  at  the  "  byes  "  as  they  breasted 
and  crossed  Two-Mile  Ridge.  There  were  garrison  lads 
on  their  ponies,  little  Jim  among  them,  who  rode  forth 
with  the  detachment  as  far  as  the  railway,  and  were  now 
racing  back.  There  were  even  watchers  in  the  upper 
windows  at  Skid's,  for  the  word  had  gone  from  lip  to 
lip  that  the  Indians  were  in  a  fury  and  meant  business 
this  time.  But  there  was  darkness,  there  was  silence, 
there  were  only  drawn  blinds  and  lowered  shades  and 
apparent  indifference  at  Major  Dwight's.  Possibly 
Jimmy  was  the  only  one  who  had  heard.  Possibly  Inez 
did  not  know ;  mayhap  she  did  not  care. 

The  boy's  face  was  hot  and  flushed  that  afternoon, 


278  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

and  he  lay  down  a  while,  an  unusual  thing  with  him, 
but  he  had  been  up  very  early  and  out  very  long  and  rid 
ing  in  the  breeze.  All  this  might  tend  to  make  him 
drowsy.  He  had  come  as  usual  to  tell  his  father  all 
about  Mr.  Ray's  march  and  the  boy  escort.  A  prime 
favorite  and  something  of  a  hero  was  Sandy  Ray  among 
the  boys  about  the  post,  and  Jimmy  did  not  know  just 
why  daddy  seemed  so  uninterested.  Perhaps  he,  too,  was 
tired.  After  breakfast  Jim  had  gone  to  see  Aunt  Marion, 
and  returned  disappointed,  and,  after  an  inning  or  two 
of  ball,  which  he  played  but  languidly,  had  come  home 
for  a  snooze,  and  found  daddy  talking  gravely  with  gen 
tlemen  from  town  who  had  been  to  see  him  before,  and 
had  queer-looking  papers  for  him  to  sign,  not  a  bit  like 
the  innumerable  rolls,  returns  and  company  things  he 
had  to  attend  to  when  captain  of  a  troop.  Jim  awakened 
only  with  difficulty  and  only  when  called.  He  had  prom 
ised  to  lunch  with  Harold  Winn,  and  wrent,  slowly  and 
heavily,  but  came  back  soon  \vith  a  hot  headache,  and 
was  again  sleeping  when  the  phaeton  drove  round  for 
mamma  and  Felicie,  and  he  did  not  know  that  this  time 
mamma  came  not  to  see  daddy  before  starting.  He  did 
not  know  that  Miss  San  ford  came  not  to  read.  He  did 
not  know  just  what  to  make  of  things  when  he  found 
daddy  bending  over  him  at  sunset,  with  anxiety  in  his 
face,  and  young  Dr.  Wallen  was  helping  undress  and 
get  him  regularly  to  bed. 

Mamma  and  Felicie  had  come  home  before  the  usual 


A    WELCOME    PERIL  279 

time,  and  Jim  never  knew  that,  or  what  happened  later, 
until  very  long  after.  But  something,  it  seems,  had  oc 
curred  during  the  drive  to  greatly  agitate  mamma,  and 
that  evening  her  condition  demanded  the  ministrations  of 
both  the  physician  and  her  maid.  That  night  something 
further  occurred  that  led  to  much  more  agitation  and 
weeping  and  upbraiding  and  reproaches  and  accusations 
and  all  manner  of  things  his  father  evidently  wished  him 
not  to  hear,  for  he  firmly  closed  the  door  between  their 
rooms.  The  doctor  came  a  third  time,  and  in  the  morn 
ing,  burning  with  fever  and  caring  little  whither  he  went, 
Jimmy  was  only  vaguely  conscious  that  he  was  being 
gently  borne  down  the  stairway  and  into  the  open  air, 
and  thought  he  was  flying  until  again  stowed  away  be 
tween  sheets  that  seemed  so  fresh  and  cool,  and  once 
he  thought  daddy  was  standing  over  him,  dressed  again 
in  his  uniform,  and  he  was  sure  Aunt  Marion  had  bent 
to  kiss  him,  and  then  that  every  now  and  then  Miss 
'Cilia  placed  a  slim,  cool  hand  upon  his  forehead  and 
removed  some  icy  bandage  that  seemed  almost  to  sizzle 
when  it  touched  his  skin.  From  time  to  time  something 
was  fed  him  from  a  tiny  spoon,  and  all  the  time  he  was 
getting  hotter  and  duller,  and  the  lightest  cover  was  in 
supportable,  and  he  wished  to  toss  it  off — toss  every 
thing  off — toss  himself  off  the  little  white  bed ;  and  then, 
mercifully,  Jim  knew  nothing  at  all  but  dreams  for  many 
a  day  until  he  and  Minneconjou  came  once  more  slowly 
to  their  senses,  for  Minneconjou  had  been  every  bit  as 


280  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

flighty,  as  far  out  of  its  head,  as  Jimmy  Dwight,  and  it 
had  not  typhoid  to  excuse  it,  either. 

The  day  following  Jimmy's  seizure,  Major  Dwight 
appeared  in  public  again  for  the  first  time  since  his 
strange  attack.  He  had  ever  been  of  spare  habit,  but 
now  he  was  gaunt  as  a  greyhound,  and  his  uniform  hung 
flabbily  about  his  wasted  form.  He  looked  two  shades 
grayer  and  ten  years  older.  His  eyes  were  dull  and 
deep-set.  His  face  was  ashen.  He  was  not  fit  to  be 
up  and  about,  said  the  doctors,  but  could  not  be  kept 
at  home.  Mrs.  Dwight  was  in  semi-hysterical  condition, 
requiring  frequent  sedatives  and  unlimited  Felicie. 
There  had  been — yes,  in  answer  to  direct  question,  the 
physicians  had  to  own — there  had  been  a  scene  between 
the  aging  husband  and  the  youthful  wife  and,  though 
the  details  were  fairly  well  known  to  these  gentlemen, 
they  were  almost  as  fairly  kept  inviolate.  But  for  the 
voluble,  the  invaluable  Felicie,  Minneconjou  might  have 
been  kept  guessing  for  ten  days  longer.  Dwight  spent 
his  waking  hours  mostly  at  the  Rays',  wistfully  watching 
the  doctor  and  pleading  to  be  admitted  to  the  bedside 
of  the  burning  little  patient,  a  thing  they  could  not  per 
mit,  for  Dwight  was  still  too  weak  to  exercise  the  needed 
self-control.  It  seemed  as  though  he  had  forgotten  the 
existence  of  Inez,  his  wife,  the  existence  of  Foster,  the 
existence  of  Sandy  Ray  and  everybody  and  anybody 
beyond  Jimmy  and  those  who  were  ministering  to  him. 
Mrs.  Ray,  once  again  moving,  though  languidly,  about 


A   WELCOME    PERIL  281 

her  household  duties  (for  Priscilla  was  utterly  engrossed 
with  the  boy)  had  made  the  major  as  comfortable  as  he 
would  permit  in  the  little  library  below  stairs,  where 
he  had  an  easy  chair  in  which  he  could  recline,  and  books, 
desk,  writing  material,  but  no  one  to  read  to  him;  and, 
as  it  turned  out,  he  would  do  nothing  but  move  restlessly 
about,  listen  for  every  sound  from  the  upper  floor  where 
Jim  lay  in  Sandy's  bed,  and  waylay  the  doctors  or 
anybody  who  might  have  tidings.  Once  or  twice,  there 
or  at  home,  he  had  to  see  the  colonel,  the  adjutant  or  his 
own  second  in  command,  Captain  Hurst,  but  the  lawyers 
came  no  more.  All  proceedings  were  called  off  for  the 
time  being.  Everything  in  his  mind  hinged  on  the  fate  of 
Jimmy,  and,  one  thing  worth  the  noting,  Madame  and 
the  phaeton  went  no  more  abroad. 

But  if  he  had  apparently  forgotten,  Felicie  had  not, 
the  incidents  of  that  stormy  meeting,  the  episode  that 
led  to  it  and  the  consequences  to  be  expected.  Felicie 
felt  that  the  public  should  be  enlightened  and  public  opin 
ion  properly  aroused  as  to  the  major's  domestic  misrule. 
It  was  high  time  all  Minneconjou  was  made  to  know 
this  monster  and  "  the  hideous  accusations  he  make 
against  this  angel,  and  this  angel's  the  most  devoted 
myself  that  to  you  speak."  From  the  torrent  of  her  tirade, 
occasionally,  drops  of  information  seemed  to  accord  with 
the  rumors  dribbling  about  the  garrison.  Minneconjou 
knew  that  the  well-named  and  impenetrable  post  com 
mander  was  in  possession  of  facts  he  could  impart  to 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

nobody ;  that  he  had  been  questioning  and  cross-question 
ing  corporal  and  men,  the  latter  recent  occupants  of 
sentry  posts  Nos.  3  and  4;  that  these  gentry  had  been 
ordered  by  him  to  hold  no  converse  with  anybody;  that 
he  had  again  called  up  two  of  the  three  men  incarcerated 
at  the  time  of  the  assault  upon  Captain  Foster,  and  it 
was  now  definitely  known  that  these  two  had  both  served 
under  Foster  in  the  — th  Cavalry,  although  both  now 
protested  they  always  considered  him  a  model  officer 
and  a  perfect  gentleman.  To  offset  this  was  the  state 
ment  of  Sergeant  Hess,  of  the  Sixty-first,  who  said  he 
had  once  served  at  the  same  post  with  them,  though  not 
in  the  cavalry,  and  knew  they  bore  bad  characters  and 
would  bear  watching.  Then  he  was  sent  for,  and  then 
it  transpired  that  No.  3  of  the  suspected  trio  had  gone 
with  the  guard  to  the  agency,  and  he,  said  Hess,  had 
been  the  worst  of  the  lot.  His  name  to-day  was  Skelton, 
but  in  those  days  they  knew  him  as  Scully.  Had  it  not 
been  that  a  dozen  other  men  were  out  the  night  of  that 
assault,  this  might  have  clinched  the  case  against  them. 
It  was  enough,  at  least,  to  keep  them  under  surveillance. 
But  other  stories,  readily  confirmed  by  Felicie,  were 
to  the  effect  that  Dwight  had  accused  his  wife  of  delib 
erate  falsehood  in  denying  that  she  had  met  Mr.  Ray 
at  Naples;  of  deliberate  intent  to  make  him  believe 
Jimmy  a  liar  when  adhering  to  his  story  that  Mr.  Ray 
had  come  and  spoken  to  her  (a  dream!  a  vision!  de 
clared  Felicie) ;  of  deliberately  accusing  him  of  rudeness, 


A    WELCOME    PERIL  283 

insolence,  affront  to  Captain  Foster  and  herself  in  refus 
ing  to  deny  he  had  seen  them  together  in  the  parlor 
during  church  time  ("a  mere  incident  of  the  most  inno 
cent,"  said  Felicie,  "  of  which  this  infant  terrible  would 
have  made  a  mountain").  Moreover,  the  monster  had 
"  accused  Madame  of  all  manner  of  misdoings  with  this 
most  amiable  the  Captain  Fawstair,"  and  Felicia's  humid 
eyes  went  heavenward  at  the  retrospect ;  "  and  of  lying 
to  him,  her  husband,  about,  ah,  del,  that  man !  "  And 
then  to  think  that  he  should  demand  of  Madame  in  her 
condition  that  she  confess  the  truth  about  that  midnight 
affair  when  her  scream  aroused  the  household!  It  was 
she,  Felicie,  who  screamed.  Madame  could  not  sleep. 
She  needed  a  composing  draught.  She,  Felicie,  had  gone 
down  to  prepare  it,  had  unbolted  the  back  door,  and  was 
passing  to  and  fro  between  the  kitchen  and  the  refrig 
erator  in  the  addition  without,  and  she  could  not  find  the 
cork-screw,  and  could  not  open  the — Apollinaris,  and 
Madame  had  become  impatient,  nervous,  and  had  herself 
wandered  down;  and  just  as  Felicie  was  returning  they 
encountered  at  the  doorway  and,  to  her  shame  be  it  said, 
she  screamed,  so  was  she  startled,  "  and  Madame  uttered 
too  a  cry,  because  I  cry,  but  it  was  nothing,  nothing !  " 

Nevertheless,  Minneconjou  was  hearing  of  a  slender 
form  seen  skulking  along  the  back  fence,  hurrying  away 
from  Dwight's,  and  of  items  picked  up  at  dawn  near 
D wight's  back  steps,  and  of  a  notebook  sent  to  Lieutenant 
Ray,  who  had  himself  been  out  searching  very  early  and 


284  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

very  diligently.  Then,  something  or  other,  picked  up 
early  that  morning,  had  been  sent  to  the  colonel,  for  it 
came  with  his  mail;  and  the  adjutant  and  the  orderly 
heard  his  exclamation,  saw  the  consternation  in  his  face, 
and  the  orderly  told  of  it — told  Kathleen  at  the  doctor's ; 
then  had  to  tell  other  girls  or  take  the  consequences. 
Then  there  .were  these  drives  up  the  valley  and  the  meet 
ings  at  the  cottonwoods.  People  who  called  to  ask  after 
the  presumably  lonely  mistress  of  the  house  began  ask 
ing  after  something  Felicie  had  hoped  no  one  had  noticed. 
For  in  upbraiding  Inez,  his  wife,  Major  D wight  not 
once  had  mentioned  her  meetings  near  Minneconjou  with 
Lieutenant  Ray,  who,  as  all  this  was  going  on  at  the 
post,  stood  facing  a  condition  that  called  for  the  exercise 
of  all  his  nerve  and  pluck  and  common  sense.  The  Indian 
leaders,  three  days  after  his  coming,  had  mustered  their 
force  and  demanded  the  instant  withdrawal  of  himself 
and  his  men,  leaving  all  horses  and  arms  and  certain  of 
their  charges  behind  them. 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

CRISIS 

THERE  had  been  frequent  communication  with 
the  agency  by  courier  and  by  telephone.  Ray 
held  the  fort,  he  said,  and  though  there  had 
been  some  bluster  and  swagger  on  part  of  a  few 
Indians,  the  agent  seemed  relieved,  reassured.  They  no 
longer  crowded,  bullying,  about  his  office.  "  They  are 
obviously,"  wrote  the  agent  (not  Ray),  "impressed  by 
the  firm  stand  I  have  taken,  and  now  I  shall  proceed  to 
arrest  the  ring-leaders  in  the  recent  trouble,  employing 
the  lieutenant  and  his  troopers  for  the  purpose,  in  order 
that  the  Indian  police  may  see  that  I  am  entirely  inde 
pendent  of  them."  Stone  received  this  by  mounted  mes 
senger  about  nine  o'clock  of  a  Wednesday  night,  and 
Mrs.  Stone  knew  the  moment  his  lips  began  to  purse  up, 
as  she  expressed  it,  and  to  work  and  twist,  that  he  much 
disliked  the  letter.  "  I'll  have  to  go  over  to  the  quarter 
master's,"  said  he,  "  and  call  up  Ray  by  'phone.  This 
agency  man  will  be  making  mischief  for  us,  sure  as — 
sure  as  the  reds  are  making  medicine."  But  the  last 
words  were  muttered  to  himself,  as  he  took  his  cap,  and 
leave. 

Stone  had  served  many  a  year  on  the  plains,  and  knew 
285 


286  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

the  Indian,  and  had  his  opinion  as  to  the  value  of  civil 
service  in  dealing  with  him.  Stone  had  served  two  years 
in  the  South  in  the  so-called  reconstruction  days,  and  in 
his  mind  there  was  marked  similarity  between  a  certain 
few  of  the  Indian  agents  he  had  met  and  an  uncertain 
number  of  the  deputy  marshals  of  the  "  carpet-bag  "  per 
suasion,  then  scattered  broadcast  over  the  States  "  lately 
in  rebellion/'  If  there  was  one  thing  more  than  another 
the  deputy  loved  and  gloried  in,  it  was  riding  about  his 
bailiwick,  with  a  sergeant  and  party  of  dragoons  at  his 
back,  impressing  the  people  with  the  idea  that  lie  had 
the  army  of  the  United  States  at  his  beck  and  call.  Now, 
here  was  a  new  man  at  the  business  over  a  thousand-odd 
Indians,  many  of  whom  had  fought  whole  battalions  of 
troopers  time  and  aga;r,  and  were  not  to  be  scared  by 
a  squad,  and  this  new  man  reasoned  that,  because  the 
Indians  had  been  undemonstrative  for  two  days,  they 
were  ready  to  surrender  their  leaders  and  be  good.  Stone 
knew  better. 

It  took  ten  minutes  to  get  the  agency  by  way  of  town, 
and  but  ten  seconds  thereafter  to  get  Ray.  He  and  his 
guard  were  billeted  about  the  main  building.  "  What  do 
you  think  of  this  idea  of  going  out  and  arresting  ring 
leaders  ?  "  asked  Stone.  "  You  were  n't  sent  there  for 
any  such  purpose."  And  Ray  answered :  "  He  has  gone 
to  a  pow-pow  with  Black  Wolf's  people,  and  was  think 
ing  better  of  it  after  a  little  talk  we  had." 

"Well,"  said  Stone,  "how  about  the— the  situation? 


CRISIS  287 

Do  you  think  they'll  make  trouble?  Do  you  need  more 
men?" 

And  Sandy  answered  "  Not  to-night,  sir.  Tell  better 
in  the  morning." 

Stone  did  not  like  the  outlook,  but  what  was  he  to  do  ? 
The  agent  had  called  for  no  more  troops,  and,  until  he 
called,  Stone  was  forbidden-  to  send  unless  some  dire 
emergency  arose,  and  then  he  must  accept  all  responsi 
bility,  as  one  or  other  side  was  sure  to  get  the  worst  of 
it,  and  he  the  blame.  He  went  over  and  told  Mrs.  Ray 
he  had  just  been  talking  with  Sandy,  who  was  all  serene, 
said  he,  and  all  reassuringly  he  answered  her  anxious 
questions.  Then  he  asked  for  Jimmy,  whose  temperature 
was  ominously  high,  and  for  Dwight,  whose  spirits  were 
correspondingly  low.  Dwight  came  out  from  the  den, 
haggard,  unshaven,  gaunt.  Never  before  had  he  been 
known  to  lack  quick  interest  when  danger  threatened  a 
comrade.  To-night  he  hardly  noted  what  Stone  said 
about  the  situation  at  the  agency.  He  was  thinking  only 
of  his  boy,  and  Stone,  vaguely  disappointed,  went  in 
search  of  Hurst,  the  senior  captain,  and  Hurst  looked 
grave.  He,  too,  had  had  his  share  in  Indian  experience, 
and  liked  not  the  indications. 

"  I  don't  fancy  the  agent's  going  to  that  pow-wow. 
He  should  have  had  the  chief  men  come  to  him"  said 
Hurst. 

"  They  would  n't — said  they  feared  the  soldiers  might 
shoot,"  said  Stone,  in  explanation. 


288  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

"Anybody  with  him,  sir?" 

"  Ray  says  he  insisted  on  an  orderly,  so  one  man  went 
with  him,  to  hold  his  horse  while  he  talked.  Skelton  was 
chosen.  He  speaks  a  little  Sioux." 

"  Man  we  had  a  while  ago  on  account  of  the  Foster 
matter?"  asked  Hurst,  with  uplifted  eyebrows. 

"  Same.  He's  at  home  among  the  Indians,  and  some 
of  them  like  him.  Guess  he's  seen  'em  before." 

At  1 1 130,  when  Stone  would  have  called  again  to 
speak  with  the  agency,  it  transpired  that  Central  always 
went  to  bed  at  eleven — there  was  not  enough  night  busi 
ness  to  warrant  the  expense  of  keeping  open.  At  7 
A.  M.,  when  again  he  would  have  spoken,  Central  had 
not  come.  It  was  eight  before  news  could  be  had  from 
the  agency,  and  then  it  came  in  a  roundabout  way,  for 
the  line  was  down  or  cut  or  something  was  wrong  far 
over  toward  the  Minneconjou  reservation.  At  8:10  the 
trumpets  of  the  cavalry  were  ringing,  "  To  Horse !  "  the 
bugles  of  the  foot,  "  To  Arms !  "  At  8 130  the  squad 
ron  was  trotting,  with  dripping  flanks,  up  the  southward 
slope  beyond  the  Minneconjou,  a  gaunt  skeleton,  with 
pallid  cheek  and  blazing  eye,  leading  swiftly  on. 

Give  the  devil  his  due,  the  first  man  to  warn  the  fort 
that  there  was  "  hell  to  pay  at  the  agency  "  was  Skid- 
more  himself.  He  had  kicked  the  truth,  he  said,  out  of 
a  skulking  half-breed,  who  drifted  in  to  beg  for  a  drink 
soon  after  seven.  They  hated  each  other,  did  Stone  and 
Skid,  but  here  was  common  cause.  The  trouble  began 


CRISIS  289 

at  the  pow-vvow.  The  agent  refused  the  Indians*  de 
mands  ;  was  threatened ;  "  got  scared,"  said  the  frowsy, 
guttural  harbinger  of  ill,  and  swore  he'd  arrest  the  speak 
ers  in  the  morning,  and  they  arrested  him  right  there. 
In  some  way  word  of  his  peril  reached  the  agent's  wife, 
and  she  rushed  to  the  lieutenant,  who  mounted,  galloped, 
and  got  there  just  in  time  to  rescue  Skelton,  who  had 
pluckily  stood  by  the  lone  white  man,  whom  some  mad- 
brained  warrior,  madder  than  the  rest,  had  struck  in 
fury;  Skelton  in  turn  had  felled  the  Indian  assailant, 
and,  despite  the  efforts  of  the  chief,  who  knew  it  meant 
defeat  in  the  end,,  the  lives  of  the  two  would  have  been 
forfeit  but  for  the  rush  of  Ray  and  a  few  troopers  to 
the  spot.  It  was  the  lieutenant's  first  charge  in  nearly 
a  year,  but  he  forgot  his  wound.  He  managed,  thanks 
in  no  small  measure  to  the  resonant  orders  of  old  Wolf 
himself,  to  get  the  two  back  to  the  buildings,  more  dead 
than  alive.  He  tried  to  send  word  to  the  fort  of  the  new 
peril,  but  the  wary  Indians  were  on  the  lookout  and 
drove  back  his  riders,  while  a  furious  council  was  being 
held  at  the  scene  of  the  strife.  From  all  over  the  reser 
vation  warriors  young  and  old  came  flocking  to  Black 
Wolf's  lodge,  and  the  elders  were  overwhelmed.  In  spite 
of  warning,  entreaty  and  protest  from  chiefs  who  knew 
whereof  they  spoke,  the  turbulent  spirits  had  their  way. 
Brethren  had  been  beaten  and  insulted  in  Skidmore's  old 
place.  Brethren  had  been  beaten  and  abused  at  the  new. 
Brethren  had  been  swindled  and  abused  by  that  very; 


290  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

young  chief  of  the  soldiers  now  at  the  agency,  and  some 
of  his  men ;  and,  finally,  Strikes-the-Bear,  son  of  a  chief, 
a  chief  to  be,  had  this  night  been  struck  down  by  the 
soldier  the  fool  agent  dared  bring  with  him.  Let  the 
warriors  rise  in  their  wrath  and  strike  for  vengeance! 
If  the  little  band  of  soldiers  showed  fight,  and  the  chances 
were  that  many  a  brave  would  bite  the  dust  before  the 
buildings  could  be  fired  and  the  defenders  driven  out 
and  killed,  then  offer  terms.  Against  such  hopeless  odds 
the  young  white  chief  would  easily  yield.  Get  him  and 
his  men  into  the  open;  promise  safe  conduct  to  the  fort, 
then  let  others  surround  and  slowly  butcher  them,  while 
they,  the  negotiators,  took  care  of  the  agent,  the  assailant 
of  Strikes-the-Bear,  the  employees  and  their  families. 
Aye,  promise  to  spare  the  lives  of  the  lieutenant  and  his 
men ;  say  that  they  might  go  back  to  their  friends  at  the 
fort,  but  they  must  leave  the  agent ;  they  must  leave  their 
comrade  who  struck  the  redman;  they  must  leave  their 
arms  and  their  horses.  Mad  as  it  was,  that  was  the 
ultimatum  of  the  deputation  at  the  door  of  the  agency  at 
five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  Sandy  Ray  answered, 
just  as  his  father's  son  could  be  counted  on  to  answer, 
and  in  just  three  comprehensive  and  significant  words. 

It  led  before  long  to  a  battle  royal.  It  led  first  to 
barbaric  council  and  speechrnaking,  then  to  a  display  of 
savage  diplomacy,  and  finally  to  the  spirited  climax: 
savage  science,  skill,  and  cunning,  with  overwhelming 
numbers  on  the  one  hand,  sheer  pluck  and  determination 


CRISIS  291 

on  the  other.  The  defenders  were  to  fight,  to  be  sure, 
behind  wooden  walls  that  hid  them  from  sight  of  their 
swarming  and  surrounding  foes,  but  that  might  be  an 
element  of  danger  just  so  soon  as  the  Indians  could  get 
close  enough  to  fire  them.  Anticipating  precisely  such 
a  possibility,  Ray  had  set  his  men  to  work  beforehand. 
Sacks  of  meal,  flour,  and  bacon,  bales  of  blankets,  tepee 
cloth,  etc.,  had  been  piled  breast-high  and  around  all  four 
walls  of  the  storehouse  within.  All  the  available  tubs 
and  buckets  and  pails  had  been  fresh  filled  with  water  and 
stowed  inside.  The  horses  were  removed  from  the  stable 
and  turned  into  the  corral.  Each  of  the  eight  barred  win 
dows  had  its  two  or  three  marksmen.  The  women  and 
children  of  the  whites  about  the  agency  were  all  before 
dawn  moved  over  into  the  main  building,  for  when  his 
messengers  were  driven  back  Ray  well  knew  what  to 
expect.  Ray  himself  posted  a  keen  and  reliable  man  at 
the .  forage  shed,  and  one  or  two  others  in  certain  of  the 
outlying  buildings,  with  kerosene-soaked  tinder  in  abun 
dance,  and  orders  to  fire  them  at  his  signal,  then  run  for 
the  storehouse;  Ray  would  leave  no  structure  close  at 
hand  to  serve  as  "approach  "  or  cover  for  the  foe.  So 
long  as  no  wind  arose  to  blow  the  flames  upon  his  little 
stronghold,  no  harm  would  result  to  them,  whereas  the 
smoke  would  surely  attract  attention  at  the  distant  fort 
and  speedily  bring  relief.  Ten  days  earlier,  before  seeing 
his  wards  in  war  paint,  the  agent  would  have  forbidden 
such  wanton  destruction  of  government  property.  (Ten 


292  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

days  later,  indeed,  the  Indian  Bureau  might  call  upon  the 
War  Department  for  reimbursement,  and  the  department 
upon  Ray,  but  the  youngster  took  no  thought  for  the 
morrow,  only  for  his  men  and  those  helpless  women  and 
children).  So  long  as  the  warriors  kept  their  distance 
and  contented  themselves  with  long-range  shooting,  so 
long  would  Ray  spare  the  torch,  but  just  the  moment  they 
felt  the  courage  of  their  numbers  and  charged,  up  should 
go  the  shingles.  The  find  of  a  few  small  kegs  of  powder 
lent  additional  means  to  the  speedy  start  of  the  fire  when 
needed,  and  now,  with  his  little  fort  well  supplied  and 
garrisoned,  with  the  big  fort  only  ten  miles  away,  writh 
thirty  or  more  stout  men  to  stand  by  him,  with  only  one 
man  demoralized, — the  agent,  small  blame  to  him, — and 
only  one  as  yet  disabled,  Trooper  Skelton,  whom  Ray  had 
practically  dragged  from  under  the  knives  of  the  savages, 
that  young  soldier  felt  just  about  as  serenely  confident  of 
the  issue  as  he  did  of  his  men,  and  happier  a  hundred  fold 
than  he  had  been  for  nearly  a  year. 

Moreover,  his  dauntless  front  and  contemptuous  an 
swer  had  had  its  effect  on  the  Indians.  "  The  young 
chief  must  be  sure  the  soldiers  are  coming,"  reasoned  the 
elders,  so  before  taking  the  fateful  plunge  it  were  wise  to 
take  a  look.  Young  warriors  dashed  away  northeastward 
over  the  rolling  divides,  and  others  galloped  after  to  inter 
mediate  bluffs  and  ridges,  but  it  was  well-nigh  an  hour 
before  the  signals  came  whirling  back.  "  No  soldiers, 
no  danger,"  and  even  then  they  temporized.  In  trailing 


CRISIS  293 

war  bonnet,  his  gleaming  body  bare  to  the  waist,  his 
feathered  head  held  high,,  his  nimble  pony  bedizened  with 
tinsel  and  finery,  a  white  "  fool  flag  "  waving  at  the  tip  of 
his  lance,  with  two  young  braves  in  attendance,  each  with 
his  little  symbol  of  truce,  Black  Wolf  came  riding  gal 
lantly  down  from  the  distant  southward  bluffs,  demand 
ing  further  parley.  Black  Wolf  had  tidings  worth  the 
telling,  he  said.  He  had  stood  the  white  man's  friend  and 
endeavored  to  prevent  hostilities,  but  since  the  affair  of 
the  previous  night  all  that  was  hopeless,  and  now  he  must 
stand  by  his  people.  His  young  men,  he  shouted,  at  dawn 
had  attacked  the  guard  at  the  wood  camp,  and  the  scalps 
of  every  man,  still  warm  and  bloody,  hung  at  the  belts  of 
his  braves,  even  now  galloping  back  to  swell  the  ranks  of 
their  brothers.  He  urged  the  young  white  chief  to  make 
no  such  error  as  had  the  sub-chief,  the  sergeant,  at  the 
camp,  who  had  fired  upon  his  warriors  when  offered 
mercy.  There  was  still  time  for  the  young  chief  to  con 
sider.  He  was  surrounded,  cut  off  from  help  and  home. 
His  brethren  dare  not  quit  the  shelter  of  the  fort  to  come 
to  aid  him.  They  would  be  annihilated  on  the  open  prairie, 
as  was  the  "  Long  Hair "  at  the  Little  Horn  a  gen 
eration  ago.  This,  then,  should  be  the  young  chief's  warn 
ing  and  his  opportunity.  Let  him  and  his  men,  save  one, 
depart  in  peace,  leaving  everything  and  everybody  else  as 
they  were  before  the  young  chief  came.  Black  Wolf 
would  await  the  reply.  In  resonant  periods,  in  ringing, 
sonorous  tones,  the  speech  of  the  orator-chief  had  been 


294  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

delivered,  his  deep,  powerful  voice  fairly  thundering  over 
the  valley,  and  echoing  back  from  the  crags  of  Warrior 
Bluff,  a  mile  away  to  the  west.  A  spirited,  barbaric 
group  it  made,  that  magnificent  savage  with  his  bright- 
hued  escort  all  gleaming  in  the  slanting  sunshine,  full  two 
hundred  yards  away.  On  every  little  eminence,  on  every 
side,  were  grouped  listening  bands  of  his  braves.  One 
could  almost  hear  their  guttural  "  Ughs  "  of  approval. 
One  could  almost  count  their  swarming  array.  Farther 
to  the  south,  along  the  jagged  line  of  the  barricade  ridge, 
score  upon  score  of  blanketed  squaws  and  bareheaded 
children  huddled  in  shrill,  chattering  groups,  too  distant 
to  hear  or  to  be  heard,  but  readily  seen  to  be  wild  with 
excitement.  Out  in  front  of  the  grimly  closed  and  silent 
agency,  with  only  the  half-breed  interpreter  at  his  side, 
but  in  humorous  recognition  of  the  solemn  state  of  the 
Indian  embassy,  with  two  sergeants  in  close  attendance, 
Ray  stood  listening,  and  turned  for  explanation  to  the 
official  go-between,  impatiently  heard  him  half  through, 
then  flung  out  his  hand,  palm  foremost,  in  half  circular 
sweep  to  the  front  and  right — the  old  signal.  "  Be  off," 
it  said  as  plain  as  did  the  later  words  of  the  assistant. 
"  Tell  him  to  go  where  I  told  him  before,"  said  Ray. 
"  If  he  wants  the  agent,  or  my  soldiers,  or  my  guns,  or 
me,  let  him  come  and  take  them,"  winding  up  as  he  faced 
his  antagonist,  with  the  swift,  significant  gesture  that  the 
Sioux  know  so  well :  "  Brave,  that  ends  it !  "  and  turned 
abruptly  away. 


CRISIS  295 

"  What  did  you  answer  ? "  whispered  the  agent,  as 
the  young  soldier  returned  to  his  post.  It  was  the  Bureau 
man's  first  real  clash  with  his  red  children,  and  thoughts 
of  Meeker,  a  much-massacred  predecessor  in  the  busi 
ness,  had  dashed  his  nerve. 

"  He  wanted  you  and  this  poor  fellow  who  fought  for 
you/'  said  Ray  bluntly,  as  he  went  on  and  bent  over  the 
blanket  on  which  lay  Skelton,  bandaged,  weak,  but  clear 
headed,  "  and  I  told  him  where  to  go — where,  by  gad, 
we'll  send  him  if  he  comes  again." 

The  eyes  of  the  wounded  soldier,  fixed  full  upon  his 
young  commander,  began  slowly  to  melt  and  then  to  well 
over.  A  silent  fellow  was  this  odd  fish  of  a  trooper,  a 
man  little  known  among  the  others  and  even  less  trusted. 
He  looked  up  through  a  shimmer  of  moisture  into  the 
pale  young  face  with  its  dark,  kindly  eyes  and  sensitive 
mouth.  He  put  forth  a  feverish  and  unsteady  hand, 
while  his  lips,  compressed  and  twitching  from  pain,  began 
to  frame  words  to  which  Sandy  listened,  uncompre 
hending. 

"Lieutenant,  I  wish  I'd  known  you,  'stead  of  classing 
you  the  way  I — was  taught.  If  I  ever  get  out  of  this  all 
right,  there'll  be  a  story  comin'."  And  Ray  wondered 
was  Skelton  wandering  already. 


CHAPTER   XXV 

• 

BLACK  WOLF'S  BATTLE 

AD  then  from  the  northwest,  with  vast  clamor  and 
shoutings  and  much  wild  horsemanship,  came 
the  reinforcements  from  the  foothills  of  the 
Sagamore,  where  yesterday  had  stood  the  guarded  wood 
camp;  and  then,  five  to  six  hundred  yards  away,  in 
broad  circle,  their  swift  ponies  at  full  gallop,  scores  of 
young  warriors,  all  in  war  paint  and  finery,  dashed 
and  darted  to  and  fro,  some  of  them  brandishing  at 
the  tips  of  their  lances  ragged,  dangling  objects  limp 
and  dripping.  Black  Wolf's  story  might  indeed  be  true. 
Far  away  westward  from  the  fort,  as  was  the  agency 
from  the  southwest,  there  had  been  no  timely  warning, 
no  chance  to  send  for  aid.  Overwhelmed  at  dawn  by 
hundreds  against  their  dozens,  the  guard  had  probably 
died  fighting,  and  the  wolves  and  lynxes  by  this  time  were 
scenting  their  breakfast  and  scurrying  to  the  scene  of 
butchery.  The  savage  display  had  its  effect  on  the  little 
garrison,  but — not  just  what  was  expected.  Black 
Wolf's  young  braves  might  well  have  had  a  "  walk-over  " 
at  the  wood  camp,  pounced  in  a  red  torrent  upon  the 
unsuspecting  party,  and,  with  little  loss  to  themselves, 
massacred  all  the  hated  palefaces.  That  sort  of  fighting 


BLACK  WOLF'S  BATTLE      297 

the  Indian  most  loves — that  in  which  he  can  do  and  not 
suffer.  Now  came  a  different  proposition.  From  chief 
down  to  little  children  the  Indians  well  knew  that  thirty 
soldiers  behind  barricades  were  not  to  be  "  rushed," 
though  a  thousand  essayed  it,  without  many  a  warrior 
biting  the  dust ;  and  that  sort  of  fighting,  said  the  Indian, 
is  fool-fighting — lacks  sense  or  science.  Bravely  and  des 
perately  as  he  will  battle  against  odds  when  once  in  a 
hole,  he  will  not  battle  at  all,  no  matter  how  great  his 
numbers,  if  by  strategy  he  can  "  win  out "  another  way. 
What  Black  Wolf  and  his  warriors  had  hoped  was  so  to 
weaken  the  nerve  of  the  defenders  that  they  would  listen 
to  his  promise  that  their  lives  be  spared,  agree  to  the 
Indian  terms,  leave  the  demanded  victims,  their  arms  and 
horses  and  start  out  afoot  for  the  fort;  then,  as  was  in 
timated,  once  fairly  out  on  the  open  prairie,  they  could  be 
butchered  at  leisure,  and  if  the  young  chief  could  not  be 
captured  alive  to  furnish  sport  for  the  squaws  and  chil 
dren  of  the  braves  he  had  defrauded  and  abused,  at  least 
they  could  have  his  scalp  to  hang  in  the  lodge  when  once 
again  peace  was  declared.  Meantime  the  warriors, 
women  and  children, — all, — they  could  be  off  to  the  Big 
Horn  before  the  troops  at  the  fort  would  get  word  of  the 
battle.  Who,  indeed,  was  to  tell,  with  the  lightning  wire 
severed,  and  the  whole  party  slain? 

But  the  warriors  wasted  their  time.  Three  hours  spent 
in  trying  to  scare  were  three  hours  lost  to  the  redman. 
It  was  just  about  eight  by  the  agency  clock  that  in  one 


298  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

magnificent  dash,  half  a  thousand  strong,  the  legion  came 
sweeping,  chanting,  and  shouting  down  the  slopes  to  the 
south,  rode  in  solemn  phalanx  until  almost  within  rifle 
range,  then,  bursting  asunder  like  some  huge  human  case- 
shot,  scattered  its  wild  horsemen  in  mad  career  all  over 
the  open  prairie,  and  in  a  minute  thereafter,  amid  the 
thunder  of  hoofs,  half  deadened  by  the  rising  pall  of  dust, 
twenty-score  in  number,  the  yelling  braves  were  circling 
the  agency,  firing  swiftly  on  the  run. 

Never  a  shot  did  they  receive  in  reply.  "  Hold  your 
fire  till  they  come  in-  closer,  and  you  get  the  word !  " 
growled  the  sergeants.  Never  a  match  did  the  besieged 
apply,  for  there  was  still  no  attempt  to  charge.  It  was 
young  Ray's  first  tussle  with  the  Sioux,  but  many  a  time 
as  a  boy  at  his  father's  knee  had  he  begged  for  the  stories 
of  the  old  battles  of  the  — th,  and  listened  with  quickened 
heartbeat  and  panting  breath.  He  knew  just  how  they 
would  circle  and  charge,  shout  and  shoot, — just  what  to 
look  for  and  how  to  meet  it, — and  there  were  only 
two  things  about  the  defense  that  gave  him  the  faintest 
worry. 

East  of  the  storehouse,  barely  fifty  yards  away,  was  the 
agent's  modest  little  home,  a  shelter  to  the  warriors  should 
they  decide  to  turn  loose  their  ponies  and  collect  t\vo 
hundred  strong  behind  it,  ready  for  a  rush  in-  force  upon 
his  doors  and  windows  the  moment  a  similar  force  could 
be  ready  behind  the  shop  and  stable  buildings  at  the  cor 
ral.  They  probably  could  not  force  an  entrance  even 


BLACK  WOLF'S  BATTLE      299 

then.  They  would  surely  lose  many  warriors  in  the 
attempt.  But  what  they  could  do  would  be  to  rush  upon 
the  storehouse,  crouch  low  at  the  walls  and  under  the 
floor  of  the  porch,  where  the  rifles  of  the  besieged  could 
not  reach  them,  and  then  start  fire  all  at  once  in  a  dozen 
places,  crawl  back  under  cover  of  the  smoke,  and  so 
burn  out  the  defenders.  Much  as  the  mounted  warrior 
hates  to  fight  afoot,  this  was  too  obvious  an  opportunity, 
and  presently  Ray  saw  indication  that  something  was 
coming.  No  time,  therefore,  had  he  or  his  people  for 
further  compunction. 

"  The  shops,  first,"  said  he.  "  Start  them  at  once. 
Open  the  corral  gates  and — get  back/'  were  his  orders  to 
the  young  corporal  who  stood  ready  to  carry  his  message. 
"  Our  horses  will  make  a  break  for  home.  The  Indians 
will  catch  most  of  them,  perhaps,  but  not  all.  Between 
them  and  the  smoke  the  fort  will  see  that  something's  up, 
and — you  all  know  the  colonel." 

And  so  it  happened  that,  just  as  the  squadron,  already 
alarmed,  was  spattering  through  the  shallows  of  the  Min- 
neconjou,  a  black  column  of  smoke  was  sighted  far  away 
to  the  southwest,  sailing  aloft  for  the  heavens,  and  now 
every  southward  window,  the  roofs  of  many  a  building, 
the  tower  over  the  post  Exchange,  the  cross-trees  of  the 
flagstaff,  the  crests  of  neighboring  bluffs, — all  had  their 
occupants,  staring  through  field-glasses  or  the  unaided 
eye  for  any  sign  of  the  far-distant  detachment  under 
Ray — for  any  symptom  of  any  check  or  signal  from  the 


300  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

swift  advance  of  the  squadron  under  the  gaunt,  semi- 
invalided  major. 

Barely  three  miles  out,  trotting  in  parallel  columns  of 
fours,  the  right  troop  was  seen  to  swerve  to  the  west,  and 
presently  in  a  far-away  clump  of  willows  in  a  deep  ravine, 
found  something,  apparently,  that  gave  them  just  a  mo 
ment's  pause.  "  A  human  being,"  said  the  lookouts  with 
the  best  glasses,  "  and  they're  sending  him  in."  True. 
Someone  dismounted  and  helped  something  into  a 
saddle.  A  sergeant  and  trooper  came  presently  ambling 
homeward,  leading  between  them  a  limp  and  drooping 
form.  Many  people  could  not  wait.  They  ran  out  to 
the  bluffs,  and  were  not  amazed,  nor  were  they  too  well 
pleased,  to  find  the  lone  watcher  at  the  willows  to  be  none 
other  than  that  strange  creature  Blenke — Blenke  in  a 
state  bordering  on  exhaustion.  Straight  to  the  colonel 
they  led  him,  where  that  officer  sat  in  saddle  in  front  of 
his  battalions  and  ready  for  a  move.  He  was  just  about 
ordering  the  senior  major  to  follow  on  the  trail  of  the 
cavalry,  when,  followed  by  curious  eyes  innumerable,  the 
sergeant  with  his  prize  came  riding  through  the  west 
gate. 

"  Private  Blenke,  sir,"  said  he,  saluting.  "  He  can  best 
tell  his  own  story,"  and  with  trembling  lips  and  mournful 
eyes  Blenke  began.  Things  looked  so  ominous  the  night 
before  that  it  was  evident  the  Indians  meant  mischief. 
Sergeant  French,  commanding  the  guard,  decided  that 
the  colonel  ought  to  be  warned.  Somebody  would  have 


BLACK  WOLF'S  BATTLE      301 

to  try  to  sneak  through  the  prowling,  truculent  warriors, 
make  his  way  to  the  post,  and  tell  of  their  plight.  The 
sergeant  would  order  no  man  to  risk  his  life  in  the  at 
tempt.  He  called  for  volunteers,  and,  modestly  Blenke 
said,  at  last  he  felt  it  a  duty  to  dare  it.  He  found  every 
rod  of  the  valley  beset  by  foes.  He  found  it  impossible 
eastward  or  northward  to  pass  them  even  in  the  dark. 
He  finally  made  his  way  out  to  the  southward  and,  in 
wide  circuit,  dodging  and  skulking  when  night  riders 
came  hurrying  to  and  fro,  he  at  last  managed  by  daybreak 
to  get  in  view  of  the  flagstaff,  only  to  find  dozens  of  In 
dians  watching  the  post  and  skulking  between  him  and 
the  desired  refuge.  At  last — but  Stone  shut  him  off : 

"  Take  two  companies,  major,"  he  ordered,  "  march 
for  the  wood  camp  and  see  what  you  can  find.  You 
know  what  to  do." 

So  again  was  Blenke,  the  silent,  in*  spite  of  prejudice 
and  prediction,  the  hero  of  the  occasion.  They  bore  him 
off  to  be  fed  and  feted,  but  he  begged  first  that  Miss  San- 
ford  might  be  informed  of  his  safe  return.  Then  Stone, 
with  anxious  brow,  dismounted,  clambered  to  the  tower 
of  the  Exchange,  where  his  glasses  swept  the  wide  ex 
panse  of  country  and  told  him  the  excitement,  so  vivid 
here  at  the  fort  and  over  "  beyond  Jordan  "  at  Skidmore's, 
was  already  spreading  to  Silver  Hill.  God  grant  his 
rescuers  had  not  gone  too  late — or  slowly  ! 

Slowly  at  least  they  did  not  go,  for  Dwight,  possessed 
of  a  very  devil  of  nervous  energy,  pushed  his  four  troops 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

at  steady  trot.  Well  he  knew  it  would  not  be  long  before 
some  one  of  the  ridge  lines,  successively  to  be  passed, 
would  suddenly  spit  fire  at  his  advance,  and  that  every 
device  known  to  Indian  strategy  would  be  brought  into 
play  in  the  effort  to  stay  his  coming  until  all  was  over 
with  Ray's  little  party  at  the  agency.  Physical  weakness, 
personal  danger,  even  Jimmy,  his  only  child,  now  tossing 
in  the  throes  of  burning  fever,  he  seemed  for  the  time 
to  have  forgotten.  Hurst,  the  senior  captain,  who  had 
counted  on  leading  the  dash,  reckoned  without  due  com 
prehension  of  his  major  that  day,  and  looked  amazed 
when  Dwight  had  come  trotting  down  to  the  formation, 
his  grim  face  lighting  with  something  of  the  old  fire,  and 
sent  his  second  in  command  to  the  head  of  the  first  troop. 
Once  well  out  beyond  the  railway  the  major  ordered  a 
few  picked  skirmishers  forward  at  the  gallop  from  the 
head  of  each  of  his  four  columns,  other  active  light-horse 
men  to  cover  the  flanks,  and  the  wary  scouts  and  marks 
men  of  the  Sioux,  crouching  behind  the  crests,  shook 
their  scalp-locks  in  chagrin.  There  could  be  no  picking 
off  of  prominent  officers  at  close  range,  no  ambuscading 
crowded  ranks  or  columns.  This  chief  knew  his  business, 
and  they  might  better  serve  Black  Wolf  and  their  com 
rades  in  arms  by  galloping  away  to  the  agency  and  urging 
one  desperate  assault.  Stopping  this  fellow  was  out  of 
the  question.  The  one  stand,  made  just  six  miles  out, 
resulted  in  no  check  to  the  cavalry,  but  a  dead  loss  to  two 
of  their  own  braves. 


BLACK  WOLF'S  BATTLE      303 

And  so  it  happened  that  toward  ten  o'clock  of  that 
blithe,  sunshiny  summer  morning,  when  all  nature  was  at 
its  loveliest  along  the  broad  winding  valley  of  the  Chey 
enne, — all  save  that  cloud  of  black  smoke  that  soared  high 
into  the  otherwise  unclouded  heavens  and  there  flat 
tened  out  like  some  gigantic  pall, — the  bold  heights  that 
framed  the  wide  bottom  lands,  the  crags  at  Warrior 
Bluff,  crowned  with  shrill  yelling,  applauding  squaws 
and  children,  the  grim,  smoke-veiled  walls  of  the  remain 
ing  buildings  at  the  agency  all  on  a  sudden  awoke  to  the 
maddening  chorus  of  renewed  battle.  There  had  been  a 
lull  to  the  fight.  The  shops  had  burned  like  tinder,  and 
were  a  heap  of  smoldering  ruins  in  a  dozen  minutes. 
The  stampeded  horses  had  rushed  away  over  the  prairie, 
to  be  rounded  up  and  driven  by  Indian  boys,  with  keen 
rejoicing,  away  toward  the  dismantled  villages,  for  al 
ready  the  old  men  and  most  of  the  families  were  in  full 
flight  up  the  valley.  If  headed  off  from  the  hills  they 
could  scatter  over  the  prairies  and  mingle  with  their  red 
kindred  at  the  other  agencies,  whence,  indeed,  cajne  not 
a  few  young  men  to  take  a  hand  in  the  scrimmage.  The 
agent's  house,  spared  until  after  nine,  had  gone  up  in 
smoke.  It  covered  too  much  of  the  charging  front,  and 
finally  was  blown  to  flinders  at  an  expense  of  four  kegs 
of  rifle  powder,  borrowed  for  the  occasion  from  the  In 
dian  supplies.  Now,  when  the  warriors  rallied  and 
charged  and  strove  to  reach  Ray's  wooden  walls,  it  had 
to  be  over  a  dead  level  only  faintly  obscured  by  smoke, 


304  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

and  dotted  here  and  there  by  the  corpses  of  war  ponies 
lost  in  previous  attempts. 

Half-hearted,  possibly,  at  dawn,  old  Wolf  was  all  fire 
and  fury  now.  One  after  another  four  assaults  had  been 
beaten  back  by  the  slow,  sure,  steady  aim  of  the  defense, 
and  unless  he  could  reduce  that  little  fortress  at  once  his 
power  and  prestige  as  a  war  chief  were  gone  for  all  time, 
and  a  good  name  and  reputation  for  all  manner  of  devil 
try  in  the  past  was  utterly  blasted  for  the  future. 

Of  the  defenders  only  three,  besides  Skelton,  were  out 
of  the  fight.  A  chance  shot  from  the  Indian  circle  had 
pierced  the  brain  of  one  stout  soldier,  who  never  knew 
what  hit  him.  Others  had  wounded  two  of  the  men,  and 
Skelton,  himself,  who,  in  spite  of  his  wounds,  had  crawled 
to  a  loophole  to  have  a  share  in  the  fight,  was  now  pros 
trate  with  a  shot  through  the  shoulder.  It  was  God's 
mercy  and  Ray's  fortune  that  that  bullet  was  not  through 
the  head. 

Water  and  food  they  still  had  in  abundance,  but  am 
munition  was  running  low.  The  men  thrust  their  hot 
rifles  into  the  nearest  tub,  and  laughed  at  Finnegan's  loud 
claim  for  a  patent  on  "  K  "  Company's  way  of  "  bilin' 
wather."  Sheltered  by  the  bales  and  barricades,  the 
women  and  children  crouched  unharmed.  Corporal 
Sweeny,  who  had  "  swarmed  "  up  a  ladder  to  the  gar 
ret,  in  defiance  of  shots  that  tore  through  the  flimsy 
woodwork,  called  down  the  scuttle-hole  that  "  the  fellers 
must  be  comin'  from  the  fort— there's  Indians  gallopin' 


BLACK  WOLF'S  BATTLE      305 

back  by  the  dozens !"  And  Sweeny  was  right,  and  his 
words  carried  cheer  when  cheer  was  needed,  for  now 
began  the  supreme  effort  of  the  redmen,  and  in  one 
magnificent,  yelling,  streaming,  lance-waving  circumfer 
ence  they  seemed  to  spring  into  view  from  every  con 
ceivable  point  of  the  compass,  still  a  good  thousand  yards 
away  from  the  threatened  center,  and,  slowly  at  first, 
brandishing  arms,  beating  shields,  shouting  encourage 
ment  and  vengeance,  they  bore  steadily  inward,  a  slowly 
diminishing  periphery,  until  they  seemed  almost  to  join 
for  some  barbaric  "  all  hands  round."  Then,  at  sudden 
signal,  unseen,  unheard  at  the  agency,  all  of  the  eastward 
semi-circle  broke  instantly  into  a  mad  race  for  the  center, 
the  dust  and  turf  flying  from  the  ponies'  heels,  the  feath 
ered  crests  and  painted  forms  bending  flat  over  the  out 
stretched  necks  of  the  darting  steeds,  plumes,  pennons, 
war-bonnets  streaming  -in  the  wind,  and  every  warrior 
screeching  in  shrill  rage  and  exultation.  To  right  and 
left  at  the  same  instant  the  westward  warriors  broke 
away,  so  as  to  avoid  the  rush  and  shots  from  the  selected 
front,  and  then,  rallying  north  and  south,  they,  too,  rode 
again  into  line  in  time  to  attack  so  soon  as  the  first  grant! 
assault  should  swfeep  by.  A  gorgeous  sight  it  was  to  see 
Black  Wolf's  chosen  braves,  a  tremendous  torrent  of  sav 
age  war,  but  Ray  and  his  men  gave  no  heed  to  its  gran 
deur.  The  sharp,  spiteful  bark  of  the  low-aimed  rifles 
began  the  instant  the  foremost  warriors  came  bounding 
across  the  road  to  the  railway,  Ray's  five-hundred-yard 


306  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

mark,  and  here  and  there  as  the  red  surge  came  rushing 
on,  a  pony  went  down,  a  warrior  was  hurled  to  the  plain, 
but  up,  and  by,  and  beyond,  with  terrific  clash  and  clamor, 
the  yelling  horde  whirled  past  the  fire- jetting  walls;  and 
out  upon  the  westward  prairie  a  keen  old  fighter  saw  that 
certain  ponies,  riderless,  went  loping  after  their  fellows, 
and  so  shouted  a  word  to  Ray.  "  They've  dropped  a 
few,  sir,"  and  Sergeant  Scott  begged  leave  to  take  half- 
a-dozen  men  and  rush  out  and  tackle  the  dozen-  that  had 
probably  crept  to  the  foot  of  the  wall  or  squirmed  through 
the  dust  cloud,  like  so  many  snakes,  underneath  the 
wooden  piazza..  Well  they  knew  what  that  meant :  Fire — 
fire  as  fierce  as  that  the  defenders  themselves  had  kindled 
in  the  outbuildings,  only  a  thousand  times  more  terrible, 
for  it  meant  fearful  torture  and  death  to  these  imprisoned 
ones  within  the  walls,  or  the  certain  bullets  of  the  merci 
less  foe  when  driven  forth.  But,  before,  this,  sally  could 
be  made  down  came  the  rush  from  the  northward,  less 
powerful  and  spectacular  only  in  point  of  numbers,  and 
every  man  of  the  defense  was  needed  at  the  loopholes  and 
windows  again.  Their  shots  told,  too,  for  Sweeny  yelled 
delightedly  from  his  perilous  perch  aloft  that  half-a-dozen 
were  down  and  the  ponies  loose;  and  then  could  be  seen 
the  dash  of  comrades  to  pick  up  and  bear  away  the  dead 
and  wounded,  a  feat  of  daring  and  devotion  in  which  the 
Indians  of  the  plains  have  no  superior.  Now  the  shots  of 
the  defenders  were  telling  in  more  ways  than  one.  They 
busied  so  many  of  Black  Wolf's  people  that  the  next  rush 


BLACK  WOLF'S  BATTLE       307 

was  delayed,  and  delays  to  his  plan  were  more  than  dan 
gerous.  Someone  had  passed  a  field  glass  up  the  loft 
ladder,  and  Sweeny  was  shrieking  new  delight  and  en 
couragement.  "  Sure's  yer  born,  sir,  I  can  see  the  byes 
comin'  like  hell ! "  To  the  mind  of  the  agent,  livid  and 
trembling  behind  his  little  parapet  of  blankets,  more  than 
enough,  perhaps,  in  the  way  of  hell  had  reached  them 
already,  but  men  at  the  windows  set  up  a  cry  of  thanks 
giving  that  faltered  a  moment  at  sound  of  shot  and  shout 
from  underneath,  then  swelled  again  into  something  like 
triumph,  for  Ray  had  prized  up  two  or  three  boards  from 
the  floor;  two  or  three  slim  fellows  had  crawled  through 
the  opening  and  wriggled  to  the  low  walls  of  rough  stone 
which  served  for  foundation,  and  here  and  there  a  would- 
be  incendiary  got  sudden  quietus  and  his  fellows  a  stay, 
but  not  for  long.  There  came  presently  another  superb 
dash  from  the  southern  side  that  swept  by  like  some 
human  tidal  wave  of  destruction,  leaving  its  wreckage  on 
the  hard  sod  of  the  prairie,  and,  alas,  its  well-nigh  des 
perate  fire-workers  at  the  edge  of  the  wall.  Ten  minutes 
more  and  Ray's  improvised  stockade  was  encompassed  on 
every  side  by  a  ring  of  yelling,  firing,  infuriated  demons, 
most  of  them  sprawling  flat  and  shooting  low,  and  the 
leaden  missiles  tore  through  the  wooden  walls  in  every 
direction,  and  the  man  who  lifted  head  or  arm  above  the 
parapet  did  it  at  risk  of  life  or  limb.  Poor  Sweeny's 
glass  came  clattering  down  from  aloft,  and  he,  poor  fol 
low,  striving  feebly  to  reach  his  friends  and  partial  shelter, 


308  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

tumbled  in  a  heap  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder,  his  life-blood 
welling  from  his  gallant  heart.  Then — then  other  smoke, 
pungent  pinewood  smoke,  came  sifting  through  knotholes 
and  seams,  with  ominous  sounds  of  crackling  and  snap 
ping  from  the  side  of  the  long  porch.  Then,  coughing 
and  strangling,  the  two  men  who  had  ventured  below 
forced  their  way  once  more  through  the  hole  in  the  floor, 
a  volume  of  thick  smoke  rushing  up  as  they  were  dragged 
into  the  room.  Then  shrill  yells  of  triumph  and  rejoicing 
rose  on  every  side  without,  and  then,  within,  the  piteous, 
hopeless  wailing  of  helpless  women  and  children. 

But  the  end  was  not  yet.  Even  in  their  extremity  Ray 
and  some  of  his  old  hands  had  noted  how  nervously  the 
warriors  seemed  to  be  watching  the  slopes  to  the  north 
east.  There  was  a  long,  low  wave  of  prairie  that  closed 
the  view  in  that  direction  to  all  on  the  ground  floor,  and 
it  was  madness  to  go  sight-seeing  to  the  loft.  If  they 
could  only  hold  out  ten,  fifteen  minutes  it  might  mean 
life  to  all,  save  the  two  or  three  already  slain.  "  Grab 
those  buckets,  you,  and  you,  and  you !  "  shouted  Ray, 
picking  out  his  men.  "  Stick  to  the  east  front,  Scott ! 
Stand  'em  off  just  three  minutes !  Dip  a  dozen  blankets 
in  the  tub — at  least  you  can  do  that,  damn  you !  "  This 
to  a  cowering  wretch  whom  even  the  sight  of  the  women, 
weeping  yet  working  like  heroes,  had  not  yet  shamed. 
The  fire  had  been  safely,  scientifically  started  in  half-a- 
dozen  places  under  the  porch,  and  already,  probably,  was 
eating  its  way  through  every  crevice.  Water  could  not 


BLACK  WOLF'S  BATTLE      309 

reach  it,  but  wet  blankets,  spread  above,  would  hold  it 
for  a  while,  and  others  stuffed  in  the  open  spaces  at  the 
foundation  wall  would  choke  it  below.  Ripped  from  the 
floor  came  plank  after  plank,  and  down  into  the  smoke 
dived  both  women  and  men,,  dripping  blankets  in  tow, 
while,  with  revolver  in  one  hand  and  filled  bucket  in  the 
other,  Ray  mustered  a  squad  at  the  east  door  ready  for 
their  desperate  rush.  "  Through  the  thick  black  breath  " 
that  billowed  up  from  below  the  young  leader's  voice 
reached  every  ear,  and  even  children  seemed  to  still  their 
cries  and  listen.  "  Now,  blaze  away  as  we  rush  out. 
Aim  over  us  as  we  spread  these  things.  We'll  drench 
'em  well  before  we  come  in.  Now,  men,  come  on ! " 

Out  they  darted,  crouching  and  bending  low,  driving  a 
few  shots  first  at  the  skulking  warriors  nearest,  then  scat 
tering  along  the  ground  at  the  edge  of  the  low  platform 
crackling  fiercely  from  the  flames  underneath.  Swiftly 
the  wet  blankets  were  spread  and  doused  anew.  Even 
though  they  might  check  the  flames  but  three  minutes, 
three  minutes  might  mean  years  of  life.  Then  back  into 
the  choking  cloud  they  dove,  and  manned  the  walls  again, 
ready  to  shoot  down  the  first  who  dare  rush  to  undo  their 
valiant  work,  and  the  smoke  thus  pent  beneath  the  board 
ing  billowed  hotter  and  thicker  into  the  long,  dim,  re 
sounding  room.  "  Burst  open  the  shutters ! "  was  the 
next  order.  It  was  better  to  die  fighting  than  choking  to 
death — better  to  meet  one's  fate  in  the  open  than  be 
roasted  alive.  Through  the  eddying  clouds,  with  seared, 


S10  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

smarting  eyes,  Ray  and  his  sergeant  could  see  the  crest  of 
that  prairie  wave  long  half  mile  away;  and,  just  as  a 
tongue  of  flame  burst  in  through  the  bales  at  the  south 
east  window,  there  came  a  rush  of  mounted  Indians, 
leading  spare  ponies  by  the  bridle-reins,  swiftly  picking 
up  their  red  marksmen  from  the  sod,  and  both  voices  went 
up  in  a  shout  of  glorious  hope  and  joy,  as  here  and  there 
and  presently  everywhere  along  that  prairie  wave  cam 
paign  hats  and  khaki  blouses  came  popping  into  view,  and 
then  long  lines  of  racing  horsemen,  carbines  advanced, 
guidons  streaming,  officers  launching  well  out  in  front, 
and  all  following  the  lead  and  signals  of  a  tall,  spare, 
sinewy  form.  "The  major!  the  major  himself!" 
shrieked  the  watcher;  and  then,  all  peril  forgotten,  the 
beleaguered  party,  men,  women,  and  children,  well-nigh 
despairing  but  the  moment  before,  burst  from  their  stifling 
refuge  and  went,  gasping,  groping,  stumbling  into  outer 
air.  Last  to  reach  it, — dragging  with  him  from  the  blaz 
ing  doorway  the  helpless  and  crippled  form  of  Skelton, 
his  khaki  coat  ablaze,  his  hat,  his  hair  and  eyebrows 
gone, — came  their  young  commander,  and  helping  hands 
were  drenching  him  with  water  as  he  toppled  exhausted 
on  the  sod. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

TRUTH    STRANGER   THAN    FICTION 

THERE  was  wrath  mingled  with  the  rejoicing 
that  thrilled  all  through  the  garrison  that  after 
noon.  Scattering  far  and  wide,  the  ringleaders, 
the  more  prominent  braves  engaged  in  the  revolt  at 
the  agency,  were  seeking  the  refuge  of  kindred  bands, 
leaving  the  old  men  and  many  Indian  households  to 
explain  the  situation  and  secure  eventually  the  peace 
always  so  readily  accorded.  Placing  a  guard  over  the 
unconsumed  property,  and  sending  most  of  the  cavalry  in 
pursuit  of  the  renegades,  Stone  telegraphed  brief  state 
ment  to  department  headquarters,  lauding  Ray  and  his 
plucky  detachment  as  they  deserved,  and  Dwight  and  the 
squadron  as  well,  for  their  swift  and  skillful  dash  to  the 
rescue.  By  sunset  the  few  dead,  the  several  wounded 
and  many  homeless  women  and  children  had  been  con 
veyed  to  the  fort,  Silver  Hill  turning  out  in  force,  and 
the  Argenta  and  rival  stables  contributing  rigs  in  abun 
dance.  Major  Dwight  was  again  beneath  the  same  roof 
with  little  Jim,  the  father  well-nigh  as  helpless  as  the 
fever-stricken  boy,  for,  the  excitement  over,  his  duty 
done  and  splendidly  done,  and  he  himself  shocked  and 
shaken  by  the  fall  of  his  horse,  shot  down  almost  at  the 

311 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

last  moment  of  the  charge,  Dwight  was  brought  back  in 
the  ambulance  and  assisted  again  to  his  reclining  chair 
in  the  den.  Home  he  quietly  refused  to  go.  Mrs. 
Dwight,  as  was  proper  and  decorous,  so  soon  as  she  could 
rally,  under  the  ministrations  of  Felicie,  from  the  pros 
tration  that  befell  as  a  result  of  seeing  her  adored,  though 
deluded,  husband  riding  off  to  battle  without  ever  a  word 
or  kiss  to  his  suffering  one,  lost  little  time  in  coming  to 
implore  her  Oswald  to  return  to  his  own  room  and  her 
arms.  But  Dr.  Waring  gravely  told  her  it  was  then  im 
possible,  and  persuaded  her,  deluged  in  tears,  to  leave  him 
in  peace.  Her  parents,  he  said,  would  soon  be  with  her. 
They  had  been  telegraphed  for,  and  were  to  start  at  once. 
Every  provision  should  be  made  for  their  comfort  and 
hers,  and,  he  added,  for  her  future ;  but  she  must  under 
stand  that  for  the  time  being  Major  Dwight  begged  to 
be  permitted  to  give  his  entire  attention  to  his  son,  whose 
case  was  desperate. 

So  Inez,  veiled  and  leaning  heavily  on  the  arm  of 
Felicie,  went  sobbing  homeward  through  the  dusk  of  the 
closing  and  solemn  day,  followed  by  many  curious  eyes, 
and  was  once  more  within  doors  before  Sandy  Ray  had 
been  restored  to  his  mother's  arms.  Not  until  the  last 
of  his  "  forlorn  hope  "  had  been  gathered  up  and  shipped 
back  to  Minneconjou  would  Sandy  consent  to  be  driven 
thither  himself,  to  find  almost  every  door  at  the  post  open 
to  welcome  him  except  his  own,  where  there  were  now 
three  or  four  more  denizens  than  there  were  beds.  Stone 


TRUTH    STRANGER    THAN    FICTION     313 

himself  was  on  hand  to  say  that  Mrs.  Stone  had  one  of 
their  spare  rooms  all  prepared  for  him,  and  this,  too,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  Stone  had  stowed  away,  where  none 
could  see,  a  certain  letter  that,  unexplained,  might  yet 
render  Sandy  Ray  ineligible  to  residence  under  any  roof 
at  Minneconjou  for  all  time  to  come. 

But,  unbeknowst  to  the  colonel,  the  matter  of  Sandy's 
billet  had  been  settled  beforehand.  Lieutenant  Purdy, 
of  the  Sixty-first,  a  near  neighbor,  had  met  the  "  conquer 
ing  hero  "  almost  halfway,  with  the  information  that  his 
room  was  ready  for  him ;  his  mother  had  already  been  in 
to  see  and  to  approve,  and  there  he  must  make  himself  at 
home,  close  to  his  own  quarters;  and  possibly  Stone  was 
grateful. 

There  were  several  things  in  connection  with  the 
day's  work  for  which  he  could  give  no  thanks  whatever, 
and  one  of  these  was  the  news  that  finally  came  from  the 
wood  camp.  Black  Wolf's  thunderous  harangue  of  the 
early  morning  was  not  all  an  empty  lie.  Only  the  poor 
remains  of  the  sergeant,  seven  of  his  little  guard,  and 
several  of  the  workmen,  each  body  surrounded  by  empty 
cartridge  shells,  mute  witnesses  of  their  desperate  battle 
for  life,  were  left  of  those  who  had  so  cheerily  marched 
away;  and,  Blenke  being  safe  lodged  within  the  post, 
there  were  still  three  absent  unaccounted  for.  Blenke 
himself  seemed  crushed  by  the  tragic  fate  of  these  com 
rades  whom  he  had  vainly  risked  his  life  to  save.  There 
was  great  sympathy  expressed  for  Blenke  throughout  the 


3H  A   SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

depleted  garrison  that  night.  There  was  talk  of  his 
daring  essay  all  over  the  post.  There  was  whispering  of 
it  even  in  the  dim-lighted  wards  of  the  hospital,  where 
lay  the  wounded  and  the  scorched  and  seared.  Possibly 
it  was  the  torment  of  his  burns  that  made  Skelton  toss, 
mutter,  and  finally  blaspheme  outright,  but  blaspheme  he 
did  at  each  successive  mention  of  Blenke,  and,  presently, 
with  frightful,  spiteful  vehemence  and  virulence.  The 
steward  in  charge  thought  him  delirious,  and  Skelton 
said  perhaps  he  was.  'Twould  make  a  cat  laugh  and 
a  man  stark  mad  to  have  to  listen  to  such  infernal  rot, 
and  this,  as  in  duty  bound  the  steward  told  to  Wallen 
at  his  earliest  appearance,  whereat  that  wise  young  prac 
titioner  looked  long  at  Skelton  and — wiser  still  before  he 
came  away. 

With  all  the  official  turmoil  that  grew  and  throve  at 
Minneconjou  in  the  week  that  followed,  this  narrative 
has  nothing  to  do.  The  general  came  and  went,  and  lots 
of  troops  and  dozens  of  officer:  Even  Wister,  far  to  the 
west,  was  called  upon  for  it:  contingent  for  field  service 
in  rounding  up  the  renegades,  and  Stanley  Foster's  troop, 
Stanley  and  all,  came  over  the  Sagamore  by  special 
delivery,  so  to  speak,  and  detrained  at  Fort  Siding,  whence 
a  detail  sped  to  the  fort  for  such  supplies  as  were  needed, 
and  the  troopers  marched  at  dawn,  a  wearied-looking  cap 
tain  at  their  head.  There  was  much  to  do  in  the  field; 
there  was  much  ado  at  the  fort.  This  last,  which  barely 
escaped  becoming  official,  had  to  do  mainly  with  these, 


TRUTH   STRANGER   THAN   FICTION     015 

our  dramatis  persona,  and  may  now  briefly  be  recorded, 
and  then  our  story  is  done. 

The  center  of  human  interest,  of  local  interest,  at  least, 
was  for  a  memorable  week  shifted  from  the  major's 
quarters  to  those  where  lay  our  little  Jimmie,  tossing 
night  and  day  in  fever  that  threatened  to  burn  out  every 
thing  but  itself,  tended  night  and  day  by  gentle  hands, 
by  devoted  women,  by  one  especially  whose  pluck  and 
patience  never  gave  out,  and  whose  physical  powers 
proved  indomitable — Priscilla  Sanford.  There  were  days 
in  which  they  could  not  induce  the  father  to  remain 
below.  His  whole  being  seemed  centered  in  that  des 
perate  fight  for  life,  wherein  he,  a  soldier  of  many  a 
heady  fight,  could  wield  no  weapon  for  the  cause  for 
which  he  would  instantly  have  laid  down  life  itself  could 
it  but  insure  that  of  his  only  son.  There  came  one  awful 
day  in  which,  as  he  bent  over  the  stricken  form,  his  lips 
moving  in  piteous  prayer  to  Heaven,  his  eyes  imploringly 
fixed  upon  the  flushed  and  fevered  little  face,  suddenly  a 
gleam  of  recognition  seemed  to  flash  from  the  now  dilat 
ing  eyes,  and  as  he  and  Priscilla  leaned  eagerly  forward, 
in  shuddering  terror  the  writhing  form  shrank  from  his 
touch,  the  sobbing  cry,  startling  in  its  utter  amaze,  in 
credulity — its  imploring  appeal  burst  from  the  burning 
lips,  "  Don't  strike  me,  daddy ;  please  don't !  Indeed, 
indeed  I  did  n't  lie ! "  And  with  a  groan  of  anguish 
unspeakable  Oswald  Dwight  dropped  upon  his  knees 
and,  sobbing  aloud,  buried  his  face  in  his  quivering  hands. 


316  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

It  was  Priscilla  who  finally  raised  him  to  his  feet,  and 
Waring  led  him,  exhausted,  from  the  room.  From  that 
hour,  in  which  it  seemed  as  though  Heaven  itself  had 
directed  the  final  lesson  should  be  given,  and  through 
him,  the  patient  victim  of  human  fallibility,  the  boy  began 
to  mend ;  and  one  day  Waring  and  Wallen,  coming  forth 
together,  stopped  and  solemnly  shook  hands  at  the  head 
of  the  stairs  and  left  the  chastened  father  and  that  daunt 
less  nurse  silently  communing  in  the  presence  of  the 
fluttering,  yet  reawakened,  life  the  one  had  so  nearly 
imperiled,  the  other  had  so  indomitably  battled  to  save. 

And  all  this  while  there  were  other  lives  and  other 
fates  and  other  fortunes  almost  as  desperately  entangled 
and  endangered.  The  general  had  summoned  Stone  to 
follow  him  afield.  It  was  hard  work  finding  those  scat 
tered  wards  of  the  nation,  those  lambs  of  the  flock  fled 
afar  from  the  agency,  and  Stone  left  with  the  fate  of  his 
three  wood  guards  still  undetermined,  for  the  soldiers  had 
searched  in  vain.  He  left,  too,  with  most  of  his  men, 
while  Major  Lay  ton,  ordered  up  from  Niobrara,  took 
temporary  command  of  the  post,  Dwight  being,  as  yet, 
unfit  for  duty  of  any  kind.  Stone  was  a  week  away, 
scouting  through  the  Sagamore  and  over  toward  the 
Belle  Fourche,,  and  brought  back  with  him  some  four 
score  "  reds  "  of  various  ages  and  sexes,  and  two  well- 
nigh  starved  and  exhausted  men,  two  of  French's  de 
voted  band,  who,  they  said,  had  been  sent  out  the  night 
before  the  attack  to  build  and  fire  a  beacon  on  the  summit 


TRUTH    STRANGER    THAN    FICTION     317 

of  a  tall,  sharp,  pine-crested  height  a  mile  away  from 
camp.  French  thought  the  signal  might  bring  help  from 
the  post.  They  never  reached  that  crest.  They  heard 
the  Indians  shouting  to  each  other  in  pursuit.  They  made 
their  way  farther  into  the  hills  and  lived  on  what  they 
had  in  their  haversacks,  hiding  by  day,  for  the  hills 
seemed  full  of  redskins.  They  were  taken  to  hospital  to 
recuperate,  and  meantime,  while  Stone's  battalion  settled 
down  again  into  quarters,  and  business  at  Skidmore's 
resumed  its  normal  aspect,  and  the  guard  and  prisoners 
their  abnormal  number,  Major  Lay  ton  returned  to  Nio- 
brara  after  imparting  to  Colonel  Stone  a  story  he  had 
succeeded  in  tracing  back  to  three  sentries,  a  story  he 
could  neither  stifle  nor  throttle,  and  that  he  left  with 
Colonel  Stone  to  deal  with  as  best  he  might;  and  Stone, 
thinking  again,  as  he  had  thought  a  thousand  times 
before,  of  that  letter  in  feminine  hand,  and  in  his  pri 
vate  desk,  felt  his  heart  go  down  to  his  boots.  In  brief, 
the  story  was  that  twice  during  the  week  a  young  and 
slender  officer  had  issued  from  the  rear  gate  of  Lieuten 
ant  Purdy's  quarters,  made  his  way  in  the  black  shadows 
of  the  fence-line  to  the  rear  gate  of  Major  Dwight's, 
where  once,  at  least  No.  4  could  swear,  it  was  nearly  an 
hour  before  it  reappeared. 

Stone  took  council  that  very  evening  with  Waring,  the 
senior  surgeon.  Waring  had  just  come  from  Rays',  say 
ing"  little  Jim,  though  dreadfully  weak  and  emaciated,  was 
surely  convalescing — that  D wight,  with  all  his  joy,  seemed 


318  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

humbler  than  a  little  child.  "  I  believe,  by  gad,  that  in 
his  present  frame  of  mind  he'd  forgive  her,  that  incom 
prehensible  little  wretch  of  a  wife  of  his,  no  matter  what 
she'd  done,  if  she'd  come  and  ask  him  now." 

Whereupon  Stone  abruptly  said,  "  By he  sha'n't ! 

Come  in  here,"  and  he  closed  the  study  door  behind  them. 
Within  twenty  minutes  thereafter  Dr.  Waring  had  mas 
tered  the  contents  of  three  precious  papers.  First,  Major 
Layton's  memorandum  of  the  sentry's  statements ;  second, 
a  little  note  that  said,  "  at  the  usual  place  and  time  "  and 
informing  somebody  of  the  writer's  intention  of  quitting 
"  Minneconjou — and  him — forever";  third,  a  note  ex 
planatory  of  the  second,  and  this  note  was  typewritten 
and  without  signature: 

The  inclosed  was  found  in  a  notebook  belonging  to  Lieutenant 
Sanford  Ray,  which  had  been  dropped  last  night  at  the  rear  en 
trance  to  the  quarters  of  Major  D wight.  The  major  will  know 
who  wrote  the  inclosed,  and  should  know  for  whom  it  was 
written. 

Two  nights  thereafter,  toward  one  o'clock,  Major 
Dwight,  with  the  post  adjutant  and  Dr.  Waring  in  atten 
dance,  knocked  for  admission  at  his  own  front  door  and 
knocked  repeatedly  before  Felicie  could  be  induced  to 
appear  with  the  to-be-expected  plea  that  Madame  had 
but  just  composed  herself  after  nights  of  sleepless  weep 
ing,  and  surely  she  could  not  now  be  disturbed.  Dwight 
demanded  instant  admission  and,  finding  parley  useless, 


TRUTH    STRANGER    THAN    FICTION     319 

Felicie  unbarred  the  door  and  unloosed  her  tongue. 
"  Shut  up,  you  Jezebel ! "  said  the  doctor  impolitely. 
"  Sit  down  there  and  be  quiet."  Dwight  was  already 
mounting  the  stair,  and  presently  could  be  heard  demand 
ing  admission  to  his  wife's  room.  There  was  whimper 
ing  appeal  in  the  response,  but  the  door  was  speedily 
unlocked,  and  the  voice  of  Inez  could  be  heard  in  tones 
suggestive  of  unspeakable  shock  and  grief  and  sense  of 
indignity  and  injustice.  Presently  Dwight  came  down 
again.  "  Unbolt  that  dining-room  door — and  the  back !  " 
said  he  curtly  to  the  trembling  maid,  and  when  she  would 
have  demurred,  seized  her  not  too  gently  by  the  arm, 
almost  a-s  he  had  seized  little  Jim,  and  propelled  her  ahead 
of  him  into  the  dining-room.  It  was  significant  that  the 
adjutant  remained  at  the  front  door.  It  was  more  sig 
nificant  that  when  the  rear  door  finally  swung  open  there 
stood  a  silent  sergeant  of  the  guard,  while  the  waning 
moon  glinted  upon  the  bayonets  of  certain  soldiers  on  the 
level  below.  Felicie  shrank  at  the  announcement,  yet  could 
hardly  have  been  unprepared  for  it :  "  Someone  opened 
from  within  a  moment  ago,  sir,  and  darted  back  at  sight 
of  the  cap  and  buttons." 

"  Bring  two  men  and  come  in,"  was  the  brief  answer, 
and  then  with  lighted  candles  and  a  lantern  a  search 
began,  a  search  for  many  minutes  utterly  without  result, 
though  another  sergeant  came  and  the  officer  of  the  day, 
and  all  this  time  Felicie  was  begging  to  be  restored  to 
Madame,  who  would  assuredly  again  be  prostrated  and  in 


320  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

need  of  her,  and  Dwight  said,  "  Let  her  go,"  whereat, 
as  was  noted,  she  darted  first  to  her  own  room,  not  to 
Madame's,  and  presently  the  search  began  again  on  the 
second  floor;  and,  to  the  amaze  of  the  domestics  aloft, 
soon  invaded  the  very  garret  itself,  where  first  there  was 
found  the  print  of  stocking  feet  on  a  dusty  plank,  just  as 
from  under  a  box  in  the  kitchen  a  pair  of  shoes  were 
pulled  forth  never  wor-n  by  any  authorized  inmate  of 
those  quarters.  Then  more  lanterns  went  up  the  back 
stairs  and  more  prodding  followed  in  the  loft,  and  pres 
ently  the  watchers  below  heard  s-tifled  sounds  of  excite 
ment  and  scurry,  and  then,  wild-eye'd  and  striving  to  be 
strictly  professional,  Sergeant  Jennison  descended  and 
said :  "  We've  got  him,  sir.  He's  chokin'  like." 

And  presently  again,  limp,  half -suffocated,  smeared 
with  dust  and  dirt,  in  shirt  sleeves  and  trousers  coated 
with  cobwebs  and  lint,  there,  was  lowered  to  the  second 
floor  and  shoved  out  on  the  landing  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs  an  almost  unrecognizable  creature,  still  struggling 
for  breath.  "  No  man  that  was  n't  made  of  rubber 
instead  of  flesh  and  bones  could  have  doubled  himself 
in  where  he  was,"  said  the  corporal  to  the  silent  group, 
and,  indeed,  it  looked  as  though  he  were  doubling  up 
again,  for  the  knees  gave  way,  the  head  fell  forward,  and 
but  for  restraining  arms  down  would,  he  have  gone. 
The  sergeant  propped  him  up  again.  The  doctor  plied 
a  wet  sponge,  and  Felicie,  at  the  door  of  her  mistress' 
chamber,  gasped  in  amaze:  "  Mon  Dieu!  the  miscreant 


TRUTH    STRANGER    THAN    FICTION 

who  has  terrified  Madame ! "  Whereat  the  dull  eyes  of 
the  miscreant  began  slowly  to  burn,  and  then  to  blaze; 
and,  finally,  as  a  faint  color  showed  in  his  sallow  cheek, 
and  the  officer  of  the  day,  his  official  captor,  bluntly  de 
manded  explanation  of  his  being  in  this  house  and  at 
this  time  of  night,  and  both  he  and  Waring  and  the  adju 
tant,  too,  as  it  later  appeared,  had  all  swiftly  decided  that 
the  one  explanation,  the  only  one,  conceivable  would  be 
burglarious  intent,  to  the  utter  amaze  of  every  man  pres 
ent,  to  the  dismay  of  Felicie,  who  screamed  aloud,  the 
head  went  suddenly  up  and  back — oh,  how  well  those 
who  knew  the  Rays  knew  that  gesture! — the  dark  eyes 
flashed  in  hate  and  rage,  and  the  "  miscreant's  "  voice 
rang  out  in  defiance,  triumph,  almost  exultation : 

"  What  explanation  ?  I'd  have  you  know  I'm  the  only 
man  in  this  post  who  has  legal  right  in  that  room.  Ask 
the  lady  herself." 

D wight's  jaw  was  drooping.  Slowly  he  turned  to 
where  Felicie,  after  one  short,  half-stifled  scream,  stood 
staring  wildly  upon  the  prisoner,  her  hands  clasped  to 
her  frizzled  head.  "  Ask — this — woman,  you  mean  ?  "  he 
faltered,  in  the  midst  of  almost  breathless  silence. 

"  That  woman  ?  No !  Ask  my  wife,  who  lies  in  that 
room!" 

Then,  before  any  man  could  lay  hand  on  and  stop  him, 
Dwight  had  sprung  forward  and  struck  the  miscreant 
down. 

Next  morning  the  guard  report  bore  the  name,  as  a 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

prisoner  under  sentry  in  hospital,  of  Private  Blenke,  of 
Company  "  C,"  and  next  night  did  Private  Skelton, 
another  patient,  a  precious  tale  unfold. 

It  was  true  that  Skelton  had  once  served  in  the  old 
— th  Cavalry,  and,  in  common  with  many  a  man  in  his 
troop,  had  detested  his  first  lieutenant,  Foster.  It  was 
true  that  there  were  now  in  the  garrison  of  Fort  Minne- 
conjou — two  in  the  infantry  and  one  in  the  cavalry — three 
men  who  had  an  ancient  grudge  against  that  officer.  It 
was  true  that  the  sight  of  his  hated  face,  hovering  ever 
about  the  major's  wife,  had  revived  all  the  old  rancor. 
Two  of  the  number  had  sworn  that  if  ever  a  time  came 
when  they  could  wreak  their  revenge  upon  him  they 
would  do  it.  He  had  robbed  one  man  of  his  sweetheart 
and  two  of  their  liberty,  and  had  driven  these  two  into 
desertion.  Skelton  had  once  been  rather  well-to-do,  but 
drink  and  this  trouble  had  ruined  him.  He  had  known 
Blenke  as  much  as  a  year,  had  been  a  "  super "  in  a 
traveling  show  company  of  which  Blenke  was  a  member. 
Blenke  was  a  gymnast  and  trapeze  performer  of  some 
note,  and  not  a  bad  actor  in  dialect  and  minor  roles.  The 
company  stranded.  They  were  hundreds  of  miles  from 
"  home,"  without  money,  hope,  or  credit.  Skelton  steered 
Blenke  to  a  recruiting  office,  and,  once  arrived  at  Min- 
neconjou,  Blenke  became  ambitious.  He  knew  nothing 
of  the  regular  army  before;  now  he  was  determined  to 
become  an  officer.  Skelton  alone  knew  anything  of 
Blenke's  past,  and  Skelton  promised  not  to  "  split."  The 


TRUTH    STRANGER    THAN    FICTION     323 

coming  of  Mrs.  Dwight  brought  a  remarkable  change 
in  Blenke,  and  when  Captain  Foster  followed  her  afid 
hung  about  her  all  day  long,  Skelton  saw  there  was  some 
thing  much  amiss.  Blenke  seemed  going  crazy  through 
watching  that  lady  and  that  man.  Blenke  had  some 
clothes  of  Lieutenant  Ray's  that  he  kept  hidden  at  Skid- 
more's,  and  Skelton  felt  sure  that  when  the  story  went 
round  about  Lieutenant  Ray's  being  seen  at  night,  prowl 
ing  back  of  the  major's  quarters,  that  Blenke  was  the 
real  culprit.  They  were  talking  one  day — Skelton  and 
his  former  chums — of  the  chance  they'd  have  now  of 
waylaying  the  captain,  and  Blenke  twitted  them  of  not 
daring,  even  if  they  had  the  chance.  They  vowed  then 
that  if  he  would  only  show  them  a  way,  he  could  count 
on  their  doing  it,  and  they  did.  Blenke  had  a  plan  ma 
tured,  when  suddenly  the  captain  left,  after  the  row  with 
Lieutenant  Ray,  and  then  Blenke  seemed  just  to  take  fire. 
He  sent  for  them  and  unfolded  another.  The  Captain's 
train  was  five  hours  late  and  he  knew  a  way  to  lure  him 
out  on  the  road.  He  hated  him,  too,  he  said,  and  "  we 
were  beginning  to  see  why.  He  was  so  dead  gone  on 
the  lady  himself."  He  fixed  the  whole  business,  got  a 
note  to  the  captain,  he  said,  the  captain  could  n't  tell 
from  her  own  writing,  and  it  fetched  him  out  just  as 
was  planned,  and  the  rest  was  pretty  much  as  the  cap 
tain  told  it.  Skelton  at  first  did  n't  much  care  that  an 
officer  got  credit  for  it  all;  Blenke  had  seen  to  that. 
Blenke  seemed  to  hate  Lieutenant  Ray — though  he  was 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

forever  copying  him — most  as  much  as  he  hated  Foster ; 
but  when  Skelton  got  to  the  agency,  got  to  know  Ray, 
got  knocked  down  at  the  pow-wow  and  rescued  by  Ray, 
got  shot  and  left  to  roast  to  death  at  the  agency,  and 
was  again  rescued  by  Ray,  Skelton  made  up  his  mind 
that  he'd  sooner  go  to  Leavenworth  for  life,  if  he  lived, 
or  to  hell  if  he  did  n't,  than  permit  Mr.  Ray  to  suffer 
another  day  in  suspicion.  It  was  Blenke  who  wore  his 
dress  at  night  and  copied  his  very  limp.  It  was  Blenke 
that  kept  prowling  about  the  major's,  lallygagging  with 
that  French  maid.  It  was  high  time  Blenke  himself  was 
in  limbo,  and  now  they'd  got  him,  they'd  be  wise  to  keep 
an  eye  on  him. 

And  so,  with  the  case — the  two  cases — against  Sandy 
Ray  abruptly  closed,  the  colonel,  the  surgeon  and  the 
adjutant,  who  had  heard  the  confession,  seemed  also 
to  think;  for  the  sentry  at  the  bedside  of  the  mournful- 
eyed  invalid  received  orders  to  bayonet  him  if  he  at 
tempted  to  budge. 

And  all  in  vain,  for,  with  the  dawn  of  a  bleak  to 
morrow,  -Private  Blenke,  no  one  could  begin  to  say  how, 
had  slipped  by  his  possibly  drowsing  guard  and  escaped. 
The  prairie,  the  Minneconjou  valley,  the  trains,  were 
fruitlessly  searched.  The  agile  prisoner  had  fled  from 
the  wrath  to  come. 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

EXEUNT   OMNES 

THERE  is  little  left  to  tell.  With  the  vanishing 
of  the  mysterious  Blenke,  "  the  man  of  the 
mournful  eyes,"  there  came  swift  unfolding  of 
the  pitiable  scheme  that,  for  a  time,  had  set  Minne- 
conjou's  nerves  on  edge,  bewildering  almost  every  man 
from  the  colonel  down,  and  bedeviling  most  of  the 
women.  When  one's  own  mother  is  ready  to  believe  a 
man  guilty,  small  blame  to  the  rest  of  her  kind  and  to 
the  man's  best  friends  that  they  should  be  of  the  same 
way  of  thinking.  Moreover,  neither  then  nor  thereafter 
did  Sandy  Ray  consider  himself  an  innocent  and  injured 
person. 

"  If  ever  a  fellow  came  within  an  ace  of  falling," 
said  he  to  himself,  and  later  to  his  best  friend,  his  father, 
"  it  was  I ;  for  I  believed  her  story — believed  myself 
loved — believed  she  had  been  tricked  into  throwing  me 
over  for  Dwight,  and  that,  now  that  he  had  thrown  her 
over  because  of  it,  and  would  have  no  more  to  do  with 
her,  she  would  soon  be  free.  Then  our  marriage  could 
follow.  A  greater  ass  than  I  was  never  lived,  but  I  was 
sincere  in  my  assininity." 

325 


326  A   SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

Nor  was  Sandy  Ray  the  ass  he  declared  himself,  for 
if  ever  that  exquisite,  catlike  creature,  Inez,  loved  any 
body  besides  herself,  she  loved  Sandy  Ray,  and  was  bent 
on  winning  him  back,  cost  what  it  might.  She  quickly 
saw  that  his  love  for  her  lay  dormant,  not  dead.  She 
reveled  in  the  joy  of  her  probable  power  until,  all  on  a 
sudden,  one  terrible  night  there  came  to  her  the  shock 
of  seeing  a  face  she  believed  long  since  buried  beneath 
the  waves  of  the  Pacific — that  of  the  boy  lover  and  hus 
band  who  wooed  and  won  her  inflammable  heart  nearly 
five  years  earl'er. 

Blenke  in  a  romantic  epistle  to  Miss  Sanford,  Inez, 
through  her  lawyers,  and  her  latest  dupe,  Stanley  Fos 
ter — whose  resignation  from  the  army  went  eastward 
by  the  same  train  that  bore  him  and  that  fair  fugitive 
from  Minneconjou — and  finally  the  impeccable  Farrells, 
all  gave  versions  more  or  less  veracious  of  that  early 
marriage  episode.  Bu>  sifted  down,  this  much  of  truth 
was  ascertained.  The  two  were  cousins,  with  the  vehe 
ment  blood  of  the  Antilles  coursing  in  their  veins.  They 
loved,  were  married  by  a  Texan  justice  of  the  peace, 
and,  after  a  brief  honeymoon  across  the  Mexican  line — 
a  honeymoon  of  mingled  bliss  and  battle — found  the  old 
people  relentless  and  themselves  squabbling  and  stranded. 
The  elders  swooped  upon  the  girl-wife,  bore  her  back  to 
Texas  and  sent  the  strolling  player  to  South  America, 
with  the  promise  never  to  return  or  bother  them.  They 
told  her,  and  she  refused  to  believe,  that  he  speedily  met 


EXEUNT   OMNES  337 

his  death  at  the  hands  of  a  jealous  husband  in  Val 
paraiso.  They  later  told  her,  and  she  fully  believed, 
that,  in  defiance  of  his  promise  and  in  desire  for  her, 
he  had  determined  to  reclaim  her  as  they  were  going  to 
San  Francisco,  and  was  washed  overboard  from  the 
Colima  by  a  tidal  wave.  Inez,  like  a  certain  few  of  her 
sex,  could  believe  anything  possible  for  love — of  her, 
and  Stanley  Foster  went  far  toward  confirming  her 
views  for  as  much  as  the  month  that  followed  their  mad 
flight.  Then,  with  his  commission  gone — and  his  illu 
sions — he  found  himself  bound  to  a  woman  whose  fast- 
fading  charms  were  no  compensation  for  anything  he 
had  lost.  Much  of  their  misery,  and  her  own,  was  told 
in  metropolitan  circles  by  Felicie,  who  applied  unsuc 
cessfully  about  this  time  to  Mrs.  Gerald  Stuyvesant  for 
the  position  of  nursery  governess,  or  bonne.  Felicie  had 
gone  thither  in  hopes  of  extracting  something  from  Fos 
ter's  people,  as  nothing  could  be  gotten  from  the  Far- 
rells  since  nothing  short  of  extradition  proceedings  could 
induce  their  return  to  the  States.  It  was  the  same  mis 
erable  old  story,  and  Sandy  Ray  many  a  time  thanked 
Heaven,  and  Stone,  and  the  senior  surgeon,  for  the  order 
that  took  him  to  the  agency  and  away  from  Inez  Dwight. 
Would  he  have  succumbed  had  he  stayed?  Older  and 
presumably  wiser  men  have  done  worse,  so  why  not 
Sandy?  Perhaps  mother  and  Priscilla  were  not  all 
wrong  in  their  forebodings. 

But  what  a  scene  of  love  and  repentance  and  rejoicing 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

was  that  when  those  two  women,  Aunt  Marion  and  her 
niece,  compared  notes  over  the  episode  of  that  night's 
vigil  and  Sandy's  part  therein.  Then  his  story  of  his 
coming  was  true,  after  all !  Priscilla  had  seen  him  enter 
ing  the  front  gate ;  had  heard  him  at  the  door ;  had  heard 
him  pass  round  to  the  side  of  the  house.  Blenke  it  was 
who,  counterfeiting  even  the  painful  little  limp  that 
still  hampered  Sandy's  movements,  had  caused  so 
many  to  believe  it  was  Billy  Ray's  firstborn,  in  the  dead 
of  night,  invading  the  quarters  of  a  brother-officer,  to 
the  scandal  of  the  service.  They  saw  it  all  now,  these 
good  people  who  had  dreamed  so  wildly,  and  some  few 
there  were  who  went  to  Ray  during  the  brief  fortnight 
that  followed  her  final  disappearance  and  said :  "  We 
knew  you  could  n't  have  been  guilty  of  such  a  thought," 
but  Sandy  did  not  thank  them.  In  his  downright  im 
pulsiveness  he  had  gone  to  Stone  and  told  him  the  truth, 
and  said  he  had  been  guilty  of  such  a  thought,  and  asked 
the  commander  what  he  ought  to  say  to  Dwight;  and 
Stone,  after  pondering  over  the  matter,  replied  in  effect, 
though  not  in  these  precise  words,  that  he'd  be  d — elighted 
if  he  knew. 

Time  and  Dwight  solved  that  problem,  as  time  solves 
others.  The  major  remained  not  long  at  Minneconjou, 
nor  did  the  Rays.  The  former,  with  little  Jim  ever  at 
his  side,  went  eastward  for  a  while,  whence  letters  came 
occasionally  from  both  father  and  son.  The  latter  found 
divided  duties.  An  interesting  event,  an  arrival  extraor- 


EXEUNT    OMNES  529 

dinary,  called  for  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Ray  in  distant 
Manhattan,  and  Priscilla  looked  her  last  for  many  a  day 
upon  the  fords  of  the  Minneconjou  and  those  hated 
tenements  on  the  hither  shore,  to  whose  permanence  and 
prosperity  her  own  efforts  had  lent  such  unlooked-for  aid. 
A  wiser  woman  in  many  a  way  was  Priscilla  Sanford 
when  she  turned  her  clear  eyes  eastward  again.  Firm 
as  before  was  her  faith  that  she  had  a  mission,  but  she 
had  learned  a  lesson  still  needed  by  many  of  her  sect, 
and  by  many  of  both  sexes.  She  had  a  tale  to  unfold 
to  most  excellent  theorists  in  the  field  that  taught  a 
new  gospel  in  the  cause  of  man's  uplifting.  They  were 
found  by  Dwight  and  Jimmy  at  the  seashore,  late  that 
summer,  and  Priscilla  strolled  hand  in  hand  with  her 
boy  friend  along  the  shining  sands,  and  talked  long  and 
gravely  with  his  sire  as  to  the  real  way  of  reaching  the 
moral  nature  of  the  enlisted  soldier.  They  were  joined 
by  Sandy  for  a  day  or  two  in  September — a  rather  grave- 
faced  young  gentleman,  despite  recent  promotion  and 
longed-for  orders  to  join  his  troop  in  far  Luzon.  They 
were  in  no  wise  startled  when  a  cable  came  from  Colonel 
Ray — "  Grandfather  Billy  "  in  spite  of  his  looks — sug 
gesting  that  they,  too,  come  with  Sandy.  They  were  all 
at  Manila  in  the  late  autumn,  except  the  Dwights,  and 
long  before  Christmas  Priscilla  had  found  in  Colonel 
Blake,  that  old-time  friend  and  comrade  of  Uncle  Will, 
a  most  delighted  listener  to  her  theories.  "  Legs  "  was 
forever  stumping  round  to  the  bungalow  and  starting 


630  A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

Priscilla  on  her  hobby,  as  he  called  it,  and  with  preter 
natural  gravity  "  drawing  her  out "  as  to  the  chief  end 
of  man.  Somebody  had  told  him  of  her  Anti-Canteen 
and  Soldiers'  Aid  Association  at  Minneconjou — and  of 
its  disruption,  but  he  never  twitted  her  as  to  that.  It 
was  the  new  scheme  for  the  higher  education  and  mental 
development  of  the  soldier  to  which  her  energies  were 
now  bending,  and  as  Blake  was  in  town  with  little  to 
do  but  nurse  a  wounded  leg  and  serve  on  some  perennial 
court-martial,  he  found  his  fun  in  frequent  disquisitions 
with  Priscilla,  sometimes  prolonging  them  until  Mrs. 
Ray  lost  patience  and  drove  him  homeward,  and  pri 
vately  wrote  her  liege  lord,  who  was  forever  afield,  run 
ning  down  ladrones,  that  he  really  must  repress  that 
irrepressible  wag.  "  He  is  n't  trying  to  flirt  with  Pris, 
is  he  ?  "  asked  Ray,  inconsequently,  on  coming  home,  and 
was  dull  enough  not  to  catch  the  full  force  of  his  wife's 
reply.  "  Flirt  ?  Gerald  Blake  never  knew  how,  and 

he's  too  much  in  love  with  his  wife;  and — besides " 

Priscilla  was  far  too  serious  to  flirt  with  any  man, 
much  as  she  might  long  to  reform  him.  She  did  wish 
that  the  long,  lank  cavalryman  could  be  induced  to  take 
her  views  as  seriously  as  she  took  them  herself,  and  as 
Major  Dwight  seemed  to  take  them,  for  Dwight's  letters 
were  coming  at  regular  intervals,  and  to  Miss  Sanford 
now  rather  than  to  Marion  Ray,  and  for  a  time  Priscilla 
read  them  aloud  for  the  benefit  of  Blake,  the  scoffer, 
and  that  of  Aunt  Marion  and  Uncle  Will,  the  ever-indul- 


EXEUNT    OMNES  331 

gent.  And  thus  that  warm,  sunshiny  Manila  winter  went 
its  way  and  the  summer  rains  began  to  flood  the  streets, 
and  people  took  to  aquatics,  and  excursions  to  Nagasaki 
and  Yokohama;  and  thither  flitted  our  friends,  the  elder 
Rays,  with  Blake  to  see  them  off,  and  a  promise  to 
keep  Miss  'Cilia's  library  project  moving.  And  the  day 
the  transport  dropped  them  into  waiting  sampan  in 
Nagasaki's  wondrous  harbor  two  packages  of  home 
letters  were  handed  them  by  the  resident  quartermaster, 
just  received  by  rail  from  Yokohama  and  the  Nippon 
Maru,  and  that  evening,  on  the  broad  white  veranda  of 
the  old  hotel,  Priscilla  Sanford's  cheeks  took  on  the  hue 
of  the  summer  sunset,  and  still  Uncle  Billy  saw — and 
Aunt  Marion  said — nothing. 

One  afternoon,  a  few  months  later,  the  Sheridan 
dropped  anchor  a  mile  or  more  out  in  the  shallow,  land 
locked  bay  of  Manila,  and  the  launches  and  lighters 
brought  the  army  passengers  ashore,  many  of  them  for 
their  second  visit  to  the  Philippines ;  and  just  as  the  band 
at  the  kiosk  on  the  Luneta  began  the  daily  concert,  and 
carriages  of  every  kind  drew  up  along  the  curb,  and  offi 
cers  in  spotless  white  went  cap-doffing  from  point  to 
point,  and  fair  women  smiled  and  flirted  their  fans, 
Colonel  Stone,  but  recently  arrived,  began  telling  for 
the  twentieth  time,  at  least,  the  story  of  the  marvelous 
escapade  by  means  of  which  the  renowned  Blenke  se 
cured  his  final  freedom : 

"  Caught  in  Chicago ;  shipped  back  to  the  guard-house ; 


A    SOLDIER'S    TRIAL 

shammed  crazy,  sir,  till  he  fooled  every  surgeon  in  the 
Cheyenne  Valley;  got  ordered  to  the  government  hos 
pital  for  the  insane;  got  supply  of  Skidmore  whisky, 
properly  doped;  got  the  corporal  drunk  who  went  in 
charge  of  him,  and,  by  gad,  sir,  got  the  corporal's  outfit 
and  papers  and  turned  him  over  at  Washington  as  the 
insane  man;  got  his  receipt  and  vanished — the  last  ever 
heard  of  him.  What  became  of  her.  Oh,  after  her 
flare-up  with  that  poor  devil  Foster — you  know  the  child 
did  n't  live — she  got  back  to  Mexico  somehow:  women 
like  her  never  die — but  she'll  never  be  able  to  bother 
Dwight.  That  marriage,  of  course,  was  n't  legal.  He'd 
simply  been  tricked.  No,  old  Dwight's  a  free  man,  and 
I  reckon  he'll  think  twice  before  he  tries  it  again." 

Whereupon  Stone  was  swiftly  kicked  in  the  shin  by 
the  long-legged  lieutenant-colonel  of  cavalry  at  his  side, 
for,  in  his  enthusiasm,  the  colonel  had  turned  and  ad 
dressed  his  closing  remarks  to  the  two  ladies  in  the 
nearmost  carriage,  and  one  of  them  was  reddening  like 
the  rose. 

"  Dwight's  here,  you  owl,"  said  Blake,  in  explanation, 
later.  "  Came  in  on  the  Sheridan  this  very  afternoon, 
and  he  is  n't  so  confounded  free  as  you  were  in  your 
remarks.  Why — had  n't  you  heard?  May  be  another 
case  of  '  out  of  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire ' — a  toss-up 
'twixt  'Cilia  and  Charybdis,  but " 

"Good  Lord!"  cried  Stone,  "and  what  did  I  say? 
You  don't  mean  she's  going  to  marry  Dwight  ?  " 


EXEUNT    OMNES  333 

"  She  can't  help  herself.  He  won't  take  no  for  an 
answer." 

«  Well— I'll— be— hanged,"  said  Stone,  reflectively, 
"  and  I  ought  to  be.  It's  just  what  my  wife  said — when 
the  daily  readings  were  going  on — would  likely  be  the 
upshot  of  the  whole  business.  She  said  more  than  that — • 
and  she  knows  women,  too — that  Priscilla  Sanford  would 
make  for  him  the  best  kind  of  a  wife." 


THE  END 


King.   C 
A  soldie 


r's  trial 


sol 


M22172 


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